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LEAVES 


MAPLE 


WILLIAM    WHITE 

WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION  BY 

RICHARD  HENRY  STODDARD 


NEW  YORK 
WHITE,   STOKES,   &  ALLEN 

1885 


COPYRIGHT,  1885,  BY 
WILLIAM    WHITE. 


Go 

MY  FAITHFUL  AND  DEVOTED 

WIFE 
WHO  HAS  BEEN  MY  KINDLY   MENTOR 

AND  IMPARTIAL  CRITIC, 
THE  BOURGEONING  OF  THESE 

LEAVES 

OF   CHRISTIAN  FAITH   AND    SONG 

IS  AFFECTIONATELY 

INSCRIBED. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

GIFTS, 1 

IN  ONE  SPRING  NIGHT, 2 

LILY  OF  THE  VALLEY, 3 

ROSES, 4 

AUTUMN  LEAVES, 5 

THE  EVERGREENS, 7 

THE  BIRCHES,        . 10 

HOAR-FROST,          .        , 11 

SNOW, 12 

ICICLES, 13 

A  WINTER  SUNSET, 14 

To  A  SEA-SHELL, 15 

HERE  AND  THERE, 17 

ON  THE  BEACH,     ........  18 

MOUNT  AGASSIZ, 21 

WRECKED, 23 

I  LOVE  HER  STILL, 25 

Is  HE  TRUE  ? .  27 

WHAT  IF  ? 29 

WAIFS  FROM  THE  SEA, 30 

GROWTH, 32 

OVER  LIFE'S  STREAM, 33 

CONCEPTS, 34 

IN  MEMORIAM,       .        .        .        .  '      .        .        .        .  35 

TRAMPLED  FLOWERS, 36 

PEACE, 37 

A  RHINE  LEGEND, 39 

REALIZATIONS,       .        .        .       .        .        .        .        .41 


VI  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

SCHOOL-DAYS, .    43 

THE  OLD  MINISTER,      .        .        .        .        .        .        .45 

THE  PAST, 47 

REST, .        .48 

THE  DESERTED  MOUNTAIN  WAY,         .        .        .        .49 

UNCONSCIOUSLY, 51 

BON  VOYAGE, 53 

BUT  YESTERDAY, 55 

AT  SUNSET, 57 

BETRAYED, 58 

NOONING, 59 

WEAVING, 60 

DAYS, 61 

BY  THE  SEA, 63 

IN  SICKNESS, 65 

CATHEDRAL  WINDOWS, 66 

GAIN  BY  DEATH, 68 

THE  FIRST  CHRISTMAS  EVE, 69 

THE  CHRISTMAS  GLORY, 71 

MERCY  REGNANT, 73 

THE  ADVENT, 74 

AT  BETHLEHEM, 76 

CAPERNAUM  AT  EVENTIDE, 78 

LOVE  DIADEMED  ON  EARTH, 80 

LOVE'S  AFORETIME, 81 

GETHSEMANE, 83 

LOVE  CRUCIFIED, 85 

IBIS  AD  CRUCEM, 87 

WATCHING  AT  THE  EASTER  TOMB,       .        .        .        .89 

EASTER  MORN, 90 

AN  EASTER  ANTHEM, 91 

THE  FIRST  EASTER  DAWN, 93 

ALLELUIA, 95 

EASTER  DAY, 97 

THE  FEAST  OF  THE  EUCHARIST,  .        .        .        .98 

THE  ASCENSION, 99 

PENTECOST, 101 


CONTENTS.  VU 

PAGE 

PARACLETE  DIVINE, 102 

VIA  Lucis  VIA  CRUCIS, 104 

SUCH  AS  I  HAVE  GIVE  I  UNTO  THEE,          .        .        .  105 

WORDS  OF  JESUS, 107 

Lux  LUCET  IN  TENEBRIS, 109 

THE  GIFT  OF  JESUS, Ill 

HAIL,  HOLY  CROSS, 112 

FAINT,  YET  PURSUING, 117 

THE  PEACE  OF  GOD, 118 

FAITH'S  VICTORY, 119 

I  KEMEMBER, 120 

OUR  SUFFICIENCY, 122 

TRANSMUTATIONS, 123 

No  MORE  SEA, 124 

SONG  OF  MY  SOUL, 126 

THE  LOVE  OF  JESUS, *  .  127 

GOD  KNOWETH  BEST, 128 

FIDES  PROBATA  CORONAT,    .        .        .        .        .        .  129 

SAVIOUR  MINE, 131 

AT  EVENING  TIME  IT  SHALL  BE  LIGHT,      .        .        .133 

A  GRATEFUL  TRIBUTE, 135 

MINE  IN  THINE, 137 

HE  TAKES  MY  GRIEF, 138 

THE  SAINTS  GONE  HOME, 139 

TRANSFIGURED, 141 

JESUS  CHRIST,  THE  SAME  YESTERDAY,  TO-DAY,  AND 

FOREVER, 142 

MY  ETERNAL  HOME, 144 

THE  EXHAUSTLESS  WORD, 145 

MY  FATHER, 146 

FROM  PISGAH, 147 

THE  EVER-SAVED, 149 

THE  ABIDING  THREE, 150 

LOVE  HATH  NO  YEARS, 152 

CONSIDER  THE  LILY, 154 

LOVE  DIVINE. 155 


INTRODUCTION. 


THE  kind  of  poetry  to  which  this  unpretending 
volume  belongs  is  so  ancient  -  that  its  beginnings 
date  back  before  the  beginnings  of  all  written  litera- 
ture. The  first  poems  of  which  we  have  any  record 
were  addressed  by  the  early  races  of  mankind  to  the 
elemental  appearances  of  Nature — the  great  facts  of 
night  and  day,  the  land  and  sea — which  they  per- 
sonified as  gods,  and  to  which  they  offered  their 
supplications.  They  were  cast  in  the  form  of  verse, 
which  is  a  more  primitive  form  than  that  of  prose, 
and  they  were  chanted  by  priests  and  people  to  the 
music  of  instruments  in  places  that  had  been  set 
apart  from  immemorial  time  for  the  worship  of  their 
divinities.  Eude  in  structure  as  was  the  language 
in  which  they  were  clothed,  they  are  characterized 
by  a  dark  and  terrible  earnestness — the  perpetual 
recognition  of  Power,  that  was  dreaded  because  its 
source  was  unknown,  and  because  it  was  felt  to  be 
irresistible.  What  these  spiritual  wrestlings  of  man 
were — how  intense  and  how  prolonged — and  to 
what  degrading  superstitions  he  succumbed,  all 
history  teaches  us.  There  seems  never  to  have  been 
a  period  when  he  did  not  worship  something,  and 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

however  irreligiously  he  may  have  lived,  he  was 
never  without  a  religion.     He  is  a  religious  being. 

The  first  English  poet  of  any  note  was  a  sacred 
one — Csedmon.  His  story,  as  it  has  reached  us,  is 
partly  overlaid  with  myth,  but  what  seems  to  be  au- 
thentic in  it  is,  that  he  lived  in  the  seventh  century, 
on  abbey  lands  at  Whitby,  and  was  so  ignorant  of 
poetry,  which  was  not  an  uncommon  accomplish- 
ment then,  that  when  it  came  his  turn  to  recite  and 
sing  to  the  music  of  the  harp  at  supper,  he  would 
leave  the  table  and  retire  to  the  stable.  While  he 
was  hiding  his  shame  on  one  of  these  nocturnal  occa- 
sions, he  fell  asleep,  and  in  his  sleep  there  appeared 
to  him  a  stranger,  who  commanded  him  to  sing. 
He  said  that  he  could  not  sing.  "  Nay,"  answered 
the  stranger,  "  but  thou  hast  something  to  sing." 
"  What  shall  I  sing  ?  "  "  Sing  the  Creation."  And 
Csedmon  began  to  sing  poetry  which  he  had  never 
heard  before,  and  when  he  awoke  he  not  only  remem- 
bered the  lines  he  had  composed  in  his  slumber,  but 
found  that  he  could  continue  them  in  the  same 
strain.  He  told  the  steward  what  had  occurred,  and 
was  conducted  before  the  Abbess  Hilda,  who  order- 
ed that  portions  of  the  Scripture  should  be  related 
to  him  that  he  might  turn  them  into  verse.  He  ac- 
complished his  task  speedily,  and  was  taken  into  the 
monastery,  where,  continuing  his  Scriptural  studies 
and  versifying,  he  became  the  first  of  England's 
sacred  poets.  He  was  succeeded,  a  century,  or  pos- 
sibly three  centuries,  later,  by  Cynewulf,  who  aban- 
doned the  Scriptures  for  the  legends  of  the  Church, 
singing,  in  a  poem  entitled  "  Elene,"  of  St.  Helena, 


INTR  OD  UCTION.  XI 

the  mother  of  Constantine,  and  the  finding  the  True 
Cross  ;  and,  in  another  poem,  entitled  "  Juliana,"  of  a 
martyr  of  the  days  of  the  Emperor  Maximilian,  as  well 
as  a  series  of  religious  poems  under  the  general  title 
of  Christ.  The  contemporaries  and  followers  of 
Cynewulf  devoted  themselves  to  the  celebration  of 
the  lives  of  saints  and  martyrs,  visions  of  the  Holy 
Eood,  allegories  on  the  life  of  the  Christian,  addresses 
of  the  Soul  to  the  Body,  and  what  not,  the  prevailing 
cast  of  their  verse  being  distinctly  religious,  and  to 
the  modern  apprehension  inordinately  dull.  We 
strike  a  new  form  of  sacred  song  a  century  or  two 
later  in  the  Mysteries  and  Miracle  plays  with  which 
the  learned  men  of  the  time,  who  were  mostly  in 
holy  orders,  sought  to  interest  the  people  by  means 
of  dramatic  representation  in  scriptural  characters 
and  incidents.  A  remarkable  poet  appeared  in  the 
fourteenth  century  in  the  person  of  William  Lang- 
land,  author  of  the  long  allegorical  poem,  "  The  Vi- 
sion of  Piers  Ploughman,"  the  general  subject  of  which 
may  be  said  to  be  the  same  with  that  of  Bunyan's 
"Pilgrim's  Progress,"  in  that  it  is  an  exposition  of 
the  impediments  and  temptations  which  beset  man 
in  this  mortal  life.  It  is  mainly  directed  against  the 
corruptions  of  the  Church,  and  has  been  described  as 
almost  a  Puritanical  and  Protestant  work,  although 
produced  nearly  two  centuries  before  either  Protes- 
tantism and  Puritanism  was  ever  heard  of. 

Sacred  poetry  was  a  powerful  current  in  the  stream 
of  English  verse  in  the  days  of  Elizabeth  and  James, 
as  the  students  of  English  literature  cannot  fail  to 
remember.  Mr.  Edward  Farr  published,  forty  years 


Xll  INTR  OD  UCTION. 

ago,  a  collection  of  devotional  poetry  of  the  reign  of 
Elizabeth,  and  two  years  later  a  similar  collection  of 
devotional  poetry  of  the  reign  of  James  the  First. 
The  two  collections,  which  make  three  volumes,  con- 
tain extracts  from  two  hundred  and  thirty-seven 
different  writers.  The  corpus  poetarum  of  the 
periods  covered  is  largely  represented,  but  some  of 
the  greatest  names  are  absent,  chiefly  because  their 
verse  is  rather  the  expression  of  the  feelings  of 
others  than  their  own  ;  in  other  words,  because  it  is 
dramatic,  and  not  personal.  We  find  in  the  list  of 
poets  quoted  by  Mr.  Farr  the  names  of  Spenser,  Sid- 
ney, Dray  ton,  Drummond,  Daniel,  Donne,  Chapman, 
Ealeigh,  Quarles,  Herbert,  Wither,  but  not  the  great 
name  of  Shakespeare,  though  his  writings  abound 
with  the  mightiest  moral  reflections.  The  deep 
gravity,  the  profound  seriousness  which  was  so  large 
an  element  in  the  English  mind  at  this  time,  runs 
through  the  whole  of  its  poetic  writing,  which,  if 
not  distinctly  devotional,  was  marked  by  a  strain  of 
serious  thought  and  earnest  didacticism  that  makes 
it  impressive  reading.  They  were  not  a  light-mind- 
ed people  who  perished  for  their  faith  in  the  reign 
of  the  bigot  Mary,  and  who,  militant  on  land  and 
sea,  fought  for  their  Protestant  brethren  in  the  Low 
Countries,  and  scattered  and  destroyed  the  fleets  of 
the  Grand  Armada.  A  favorite  theme  upon  which 
the  English  poets  exercised  their  talent  for  sacred 
verse  was  the  Psalms,  the  earliest  version  of  which 
— the  version  known  as  the  Northumberland  Psalter 
— dates  back  to  the  thirteenth  century.  It  was  fol- 
lowed by  another  in  the  next  century,  the  work  of 


INTR  OD  UCTION.  Xlll 

Eichard  Rolle,  the  Hermit  of  Hampole,  who  was  one 
of  the  busiest  religious  writers  of  the  day.  Thomas 
Sternhold  and  John  Hopkins  published  a  version  of 
a  portion  of  the  Psalms  in  the  middle  of  the  six- 
teenth century  ;  Martin  Parker,  Archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury, published  another  about  ten  years  later ; 
George  Sandys  published  his  version,  or  paraphrase, 
in  the  first  half  of  the  next  century,  and  toward  its 
close  Nicholas  Brady  and  Nahum  Tate  published 
theirs,  which  is  still  in  use.  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt 
made  a  paraphrase  of  the  Seven  Penitential  Psalms, 
and  versions  of  the  fourteenth  and  twenty-ninth 
Psalms  by  Queen  Elizabeth  and  King  James  have 
been  preserved.  Taking  the  two  collections  of  Mr. 
Farr  as  a  guide,  we  find  that  forty  of  the  poets 
whom  he  quoted  are  represented  by  eighty-four  dif- 
ferent metrical  versions  of  the  Psalms.  It  is  safe  to 
say  that  almost  every  collection  of  miscellaneous 
verse  published  in  the  last  half  of  the  sixteenth  and 
the  first  half  of  the  seventeenth  centuries  was 
freighted  with  sacred  song,  either  in  the  shape  of 
translations  from  or  of  paraphrases  of  the  lyrical, 
prophetic,  or  narrative  portions  of  the  Old  and  New 
Testaments,  or  in  the  shape  of  hymns,  prayers,  med- 
itations, or  devotional  exercises.  The  book  that  was 
most  read  in  the  last  of  these  periods  by  serious 
readers  was  Joshua  Sylvester's  version  of  The  Divine 
Week  of  Du  Bartus — a  ponderously  dull  quarto 
which  can  hardly  be  read  now  without  divine  assist- 
ance. A  tolerably  fair  idea  of  the  bulk  of  this  verse 
may  be  gathered  from  a  selection  from  Henry  Lok, 
of  whom  we  only  know  that  he  was  connected  with 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 

the  court  of  Elizabeth,  to  whom  he  dedicated  some 
of  his  pieces,  which  comprise  two  hundred  sonnets, 
treating  of  meditation,  humiliation,  prayer,  comfort, 
joy,  and  thanksgiving.  He  published,  in  1597,  a 
voluminous  work  on  Ecclesiastes  and  the  Psalms,  con- 
sisting of  three  hundred  and  twenty  sonnets,  two  hun- 
dred of  which  were  devoted  to  "  sundrie  Christians 
Passions,"  Here  is  a  specimen  of  Lok's  talents  : — 

VERSION  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 

Our  Father  which  in  heaven  art, 

Lorde  !  hallowed  be  thy  name ; 
Thy  kingdome  come,  thy  will  be  done, 

In  Heaven  and  Earth  the  same. 

Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread ; 

Our  trespasses  forgive, 
As  we  for  other  men's  offence 

Do  freely  pardon  give. 

Into  temptation  lead  us  not, 

But  'liver  us  from  ill  ; 
For  thine  all  kingdome,  glory,  powre, 

Is  now,  and  ever  will. 

This  rendering  of  the  Lord's  Prayer  is  close,  but 
prosaic.  Better  every  way  is  the  Sternhold  and  Hop- 
kins version  of  the  Psalms.  A  specimen  of  the 
talents  of  the  latter  will  be  found  in  his  rendering 
of  the  first  two  verses  of  the  eighty-fourth  Psalm : — 

How  pleasant  is  thy  dwelling  place, 

O  Lord  of  hostes,  to  me  ! 
The  Tabernacles  of  thy  grace, 

How  pleasant,  Lord,  they  be ! 

My  soule  doth  long  full  sore  to  goe 
Into  thy  courtes  abroad  ; 


INTRODUCTION.  XV 

My  heart  doth  lust,  my  flesh  also, 
In  thee  the  living  Lord. 

The  sparrowes  find  a  roome  to  rest, 
And  save  themselves  from  wrong  ; 

And  eke  the  swallow  hath  a  nest 
Wherein  to  keep  her  young. 

These  birdes  full  nigh  thine  altar  may 

Have  place  to  sit  and  sing  ; 
O  Lord  of  hostes,  thou  art,  I  say, 

My  God  and  eke  my  King. 

The  seventeenth  century  was  rich  in  religious 
singers,  concerning  the  most  notable  of  whom  and 
their  chief  works  a  page  from  my  Introduction  to  the 
first  volume  of  English  Verse  may  not  be  amiss  here. 
"  Giles  Fletcher,  a  scholar  of  Trinity  College,  and  a 
cousin  of  Fletcher  the  dramatist,  led  the  sacred  choir 
of  seventeenth  century  poets  with  Christ's  Victory 
and  Triumph  in  Heaven  and  Earth  over  and  after 
Death  (1610),  a  long  allegorical  poem  in  the  manner 
of  Spenser.  Quarles,  an  Essex  man,  educated  at 
Christ's  College,  and  at  Lincoln's  Inn,  poured  forth 
volumes  of  Biblical  metre,  of  an  earthly  nature,  in  A 
Feast  for  Worms,  in  a  Poem  on  the  History  of  Jonah 
(1620) ;  Hadassa  or  the  History  of  Queen  Esther 
(1621)  ;  Job  Militant,  with  Meditations  Divine  and 
Moral,  wept  by  Jeremie  the  Prophet  (1624)  ;  and 
Sion's  Sonnets,  sung  by  Solomon  the  King,  and 
Paraphrased  (1625).  The  pensive  Drummond  struck 
a  divine  note  in  the  year  that  Shakespeare  died,  in 
his  Poems  (1616),  and  in  the  year  that  Shakespeare's 
fellows  published  the  First  Folio  (1623)  he  gathered 
a  nosegay  of  Flowres  of  Sion.  Herbert  of  Bemer- 


XVI  INTRODUCTION. 

ton,  the  darling  of  the  heavenly  Muses,  came  next  in 
the  Temple  (1631) ;  then  Wither,  whilom  satirist, 
hunter  with  shepherds,  and  worshipper  of  ideal  vir- 
tue, with  his  translation  of  the  Psalms  (1632) ;  then 
Sandys,  son  of  the  Archbishop  of  York,  and  translator 
of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses,  with  his  Paraphrase  of  the 
Psalms  (1636)  ;  and  then  Crashaw,  a  Fellow  of 
Peterhouse,  who  was  expelled  from  Cambridge  for 
refusing  to  subscribe  the  Covenant  and  because  a 
Catholic,  and  who  followed  Herbert,  longo  intervallo, 
in  his  Steps  to  the  Temple  (1648).  Other  poets  to 
whom  Siloa's  brook  was  a  source  of  inspiration  at  this 
period  were  Drayton,  who  wrote  the  Harmony  of  the 
Church,  containing  the  spiritual  songs  and  holy 
hymns  of  godly  men,  patriarchs,  and  prophets,  all 
sweetly  sounding  to  the  glory  of  the  Highest ;  Sir 
John  Beaumont,  elder  brother  of  Beaumont,  the 
dramatist,  who  wrote  the  Crown  of  Thorns  ;  Donne, 
who  wrote  sacred  sonnets,  probably  after  James  had 
made  him  Dean  of  St.  Paul's  ;  Cowley,  who  wrote 
the  Davidies ;  Habington,  who  spiritualized  the 
third  edition  of  his  Castara  with  twenty-two  sacred 
poems;  and  King,  Bishop  of  Chichester,  and  Vaughan, 
the  Silurist,  who  were  both  touched  to  the  fine  issues 
by  the  devotional  spirit  of  the  time."  But  the  great 
poet  of  this  century,  and,  indeed  of  all  the  centuries 
of  English  sacred  song,  was  John  Milton,  who  gave 
to  his  countrymen  the  only  epic  which  they  possess. 
He  represents  the  religious  element  in  the  English 
mind  with  a  gravity  and  a  greatness  that  no  other 
English  poet  has  attained. 

Hymnology,  as  it  is  understood  and  practised  now 


INTRODUCTION.  XV11 

in  England  and  America,  probably  began  with  Isaac 
Watts,  who  published  four  different  collections  of 
religious  verse  between  1706  and  1720,  and  was 
continued  by  John  and  Charles  Wesley,  who  pub- 
lished eighteen  years  later  their  collection  of  Psalms 
and  Hymns.  They  were  succeeded  in  the  latter  part 
of  the  century  by  William  Cowper,  who  relieved  his 
mental  darkness  by  waiting  occasional  hymns  that  can- 
not be  called  cheerful,  and  in  this  century  by  James 
Montgomery  who  took  a  brighter  view  of  sacred 
things.  There  is  a  literary  quality  in  Montgomery 
and  Cowper  which  I  do  not  find  in  Watts  and  the 
Wesleys,  nor,  indeed,  in  the  great  body  of  English 
and  American  hyinnologists,  who  are  read  for  their 
piety  and  not  their  poetry.  I  respect — all  men  of 
sense  respect — sincere  religious  feelings,  but  I  am 
not  bound  to  respect  its  expression  in  indifferent  or 
execrable  English.  There  is  no  reason  why  litera- 
ature  and  devotion  should  not  be  united  in  the  same 
composition,  but  every  reason  why  they  should  be 
(as  in  the  case  of  Milton)  one  and  inseparable. 

My  business  in  this  brief  introduction  has  been  to 
indicate  the  kind  of  poetry  to  which  this  volume 
belongs,  and  not  to  criticise  the  kind,  or  the  volume. 
To  have  done  the  former  would  have  carried  me  be- 
yond the  limits  I  allowed  myself,  while  to  have  done 
the  latter  would  have  been  to  forestall — or  attempt  to 
forestall — the  judgment  of  the  reader.  I  will  only 
say,  then,  that  it  is  written  with  earnestness  and  feel- 
ing, and  that  portions  of  it  are  worthy  of  preserva- 
tion in  future  hymnologies.  E.  H.  STODDAKD. 


LEAYES 


MAPLE    LAWK 


GIFTS. 

THE  myriad  bayonet  blades  of  vernal  grass 

Stand  washed  in  bath  of  purest  meadow  dew, 

And  through  the  long,  dark  night  a  canopy 

Of  silken  filaments  on  gleaming  points 

Arachnidse  have  drawn,  and  io,  we  view 

The  pearly  gems  which  lie  upon  the  web 

So  gossamer,  and  shine  in  morning  light, 

As  though  in  silver  mounting  each  were  set, 

To  diadem  the  brow  of  maiden  fair ; 

And  yet,  the  busy  workers  little  recked 

That  gems  would  lie  upon  the  silver  threads 

And  sparkle  in  the  morning  sun  so  bright ; 

For  pearls  they  wove  not,  but  for  food,  which  toil 

Of  livelong  hours  should  gather  in  the  net 

So  deftly  spread.     So  toil  we  through  our  days, 

And  often  find  the  richest  gifts  of  heaven 

Do  nobly  grace  our  common  needs  of  life. 


IN  ONE  SPRING  NIGHT. 


IN  ONE  SPKING  NIGHT. 

WHILE  I  was  sleeping  yesternight, 
The  choral  messengers  of  Spring 

Came  sweeping,  in  their  northern  flight ; 
At  early  dawn  I  heard  them  sing, 

The  rusty  grackle,  glossy  black, 

First  called  the  birds'  symposiac. 

To  him  respondent  blue-birds  sweet, 
In  low,  voluptuous,  warbling  notes, 

The  purple  grosbeaks,  as  was  meet, 
With  crimson  crests  and  russet  coats, 

Poured  forth  rich  song  upon  the  air, 

And  bade  me  for  the  Spring  prepare. 

The  robins  then  with  blithesome  song, 
Upon  the  topmost  twigs  of  trees, 

The  gladsome  chorus  did  prolong, 
Careless  of  Winter's  stern  decrees  ; 

And  then  the  eager  quest  began, 

Their  rustic  homes  to  choose  and  plan. 

But  hark  !  the  heartiest  staves  of  all, 
Song-sparrows  pour  from  lusty  throats, 

So  brief,  and  yet  so  musical, 

That  Winter  flees  from  such  sweet  notes ; 

And  so  the  cheery  birds  defy 

The  March  gray  skies,  and  Spring  descry. 


LILY  OF  THE   VALLEY. 


LILY  OF  THE  VALLEY. 

How  quiet  is  the  trysting-place, 

Where  thou  dost  show  thy  beauteous  face, 

So  cool,  sequestered,  out  of  sight, 

To  eyes  of  love  a  great  delight. 

The  shady  ground  where  thou  dost  grow 
Is  the  most  fit  thy  grace  to  show, 
For  thy  twin  leaves  with  tender  sheen 
Rise  from  a  sward  of  duller  green. 

Thy  nodding  crown  of  purest  bells, 
Whose  perfume  sweet  thy  hiding  tells, 
Is  pluckt  for  breast  of  beauty  fair, 
And  finds  a  happy  lodgement  there. 

Thy  cups,  so  exquisitely  wrought, 
By  elfin  sprites  at  dawn  are  sought, 
When  each  holds  at  the  morning  light 
A  tiny  dew-drop  shining  bright. 

Thy  jewelled  bells  shine  out  as  fair 
As  diamonds  in  Titania's  hair  ! 
Thy  stem  is  like  the  lance,  upon 
Which  leans  some  knight  of  Oberon. 


ROSES. 


ROSES. 

WIDE  ye  ope  in  summer  morn, 
By  the  sun  to  beauty  born, 
Kissing  the  first  beams  that  shine, 
Lifting  up  your  lips  divine. 

Matchless  tints  of  beauty  rare, 
Perfect  forms  beyond  compare, 
Born  of  heaven,  blooming  here, 
Whispering  love  into  my  ear. 

So  I  pluck  ye,  roses  sweet, 
That  your  message  her  may  greet, 
Whom  I  hoped  to  call  my  own, 
While  her  cheeks  like  roses  shone. 

Eoses  red,  and  damask  too, 
White  and  yellow,  bathed  in  dew, 
Blush  and  crimson,  petalled  fair ; 
Let  me  all  your  fragrance  share. 

May  your  perfume  e'er  increase, 
Lips  of  sweetness  speaking  peace  ; 
Love  from  heaven  to  me  impart, 
Lying  on  a  trusting  heart. 


AUTUMN  LEAVES. 


AUTUMN  LEAVES. 

SERE  and  yellow,  and  russet  and  gold, 
Brown  and  crimson,  and  purple  and  pied, 

So  fall  the  leaves,  and  cover  the  wold, 
While  scarlet  vines  to  the  trees  are  tied. 

Strawberries  wild,  'mid  the  deep  rich  mould, 
Hid  by  the  leaves,  a  gorgeous  cover, — 

Are  sheltered  well,  'neath  the  trees  so  bold, 
'Gainst  the  tryst  of  the  summer  lover. 

The  tiny  snowdrop  has  found  a  nest, 

And  safe  will  defy  the  bitter  cold, 
With  leaves  wrapped  'round  it,  a  Winter  vest, 

Till  Spring  breaks  up  the  Frost-king's  hold. 

Wintergreen  berries  have  gone  to  sleep  ; 

At  their  feet  the  violets  nestle, 
Assured  that  the  rest  they  both  do  keep, 

The  leaves  won't  disturb  now  by  their  rustle. 

The  lilies  yellow,  with  spots  so  brown, 
The  squirrel's  nuts,  put  away  with  care, 

All  covered  are  with  a  Winter  gown, 

Which  the  trees  have  shed  from  limbs  now  bare. 


A  UTUMN  LEA.  VES. 

Death  of  the  old  lends  life  to  the  new ; 

Bright  leaves  lie  light  on  the  myrtle  bed ; 
Sheen,  though  buried,  its  green  will  renew, 

Leaves  of  last  Spring  to  the  next  are  wed. 

The  faded  glory  will  come  again, 

For  the  wintry  night  will  soon  die  out ; 

When  birth  of  Spring,  with  no  pang  of  pain, 
Brings  forth  new  leaves,  in  a  gladsome  rout. 


THE  EVERGREENS. 


THE  EVEKGBEENS. 

WHEN,  in  the  months  of  golden  harvest-time, 
The  shade  and  forest  trees  put  off  green  hues, 

The  poets  sing  the  praise  in  dainty  rhyme 

Of  autumn  flowers,  whose  brilliant  shade  endues 

The  fading  fields  with  scarlet  dyes,  allied 

To  those  of  falling  leaves,  crimson  and  pied. 

When  light  October  zephyrs  chant  their  songs 
Through  the  bare  branches  of  the  forest  trees, 

Then  every  twig  and  circling  vine  prolongs 
The  music,  which,  like  droning  of  the  bees, 

Follows  the  dying  leaves,  as,  circling  slow, 

They  rustle  faintly  to  the  earth  below. 

When  dews  of  eve  lie  light  upon  the  earth, 
And  fill  the  evergreens  with  myriad  tears, 

Which  mirror  each  the  morning  sun's  new  birth, 
The  beauty  of  the  present  now  appears, 

While  little  birds  their  autumn  tales  relate, 

Nor  think  the  prospect  very  desperate. 

When  through  the  night,  on  every  tree  and  bush, 
The  hoar-frost  yields  a  wealth  of  sparkling  gems, 

And  Phoebus  in  the  early  morn  doth  flush 
The  Autumn  sky,  and  melts  its  diadems — 

With  pyramidic  form,  the  evergreens 

Stand  in  the  landscape  like  so  many  queens. 


8  THE  EVERGREENS. 

When  blow  November  winds  across  the  plains 
The  fallen  leaves  before  the  tempest  fly ; 

The  night-frost  etches  all  the  window-panes, 
And  hints  that  snow  is  coming  by-and-by  ; 

The  evergreens  alone  are  left  to  show, 

Amid  the  desolation,  Nature's  glow. 

When  clouds  o'ershadow  all  the  wintry  sky, 
And  fallen,  feathery  snow-flakes  cover  all, 

Hiding  the  barren  landscape  far  and  nigh, 
Enwrapping  it  within  a  fleecy  pall, 

Then  stand  the  evergreens  with  fair  white  plumes, 

Which  hide  their  summits  with  the  wintry  blooms. 

And  as  the  snow  falls  thick,  the  branches  droop 
In  modesty  beneath  dame  Nature's  gift, 

Outvieing  each  the  other  in  the  group, 

Hiding  their  needles  'neath  the  snowy  drift, 

And  to  the  traveller  showing  that  no  stain 

Hath  fallen  on  their  brows  through  all  the  plain. 

And  so  through  all  the  Winter's  changing  scenes, 
With  all  the  devastation  by  it  made, 

Constant  and  true,  through  all  that  intervenes, 
Their  green's  a  glory  that  shall  never  fade, 

It  holds  the  promise  of  a  life  to  me 

Which  is  forthcoming,  and  shall  ever  be. 

And  thus  the  soughing  of  the  Wintry  storms 
I  count  as  Nature's  sighs  for  coming  Spring  ; 

The  sunbeam  on  the  fallen  snow  but  warms 
The  waking  earth,  which  surely  waits  to  wring 


THE  EVERGREENS. 

Itself  from  out  the  Frost-king's  icy  bold, 
And  quickly  seize  the  gage  of  green  foretold. 

And  when  the  violets  and  daffodils 

Shall  peep  in  beauty  from  their  shy  retreat, 

And  Spring-time  comes  and  cures  all  wintry  ills, 
The  evergreens  shall  lift  their  heads  to  meet 

Fair  Nature  with  its  thousand  bursts  of  song, 

The  happy  chorus  of  the  woodland  throng. 

And  e'er  the  Summer  flowers  shall  bud  and  bloom, 
And  all  the  frost  and  ice  be  chased  away ; 

Aye,  ere  the  Winter  fully  lose  its  gloom 
The  evergreens  shall  put  on  glad  array, 

And  in  their  brighter  emerald  dress  outvie 

The  tints  put  on  by  earth,  or  wave,  or  sky. 


10  THE  BIRCHES. 


THE  BIECHES. 

IN  the  Winter  bleak  and  bare 
Stand  the  birches  bright  and  fair  ; 
They  the  forest's  gloom  illume, 
None  their  pied  array  assume. 

Decked  in  vesture  brown  and  white, 
Gleaming  through  the  dusk  of  night, 
Chasing  sombre  hues  away, 
Kindling  darkness  into  day. 

White  their  twigs  against  the  sky 
Shine  in  serried  panoply, 
And  the  forest  aisles  their  beams, 
Wavering,  light  with  shimmering  streams. 

'Tis  the  silken  sheen  they  show 
Of  white  samite,  and  the  glow 
Of  red-litten  threads  of  gold, 
Down  the  trunks  of  brown  unrolled. 


Purple  glows  the  mountain-side 
Where  it  stretches  far  and  wide, 
And  against  its  glory  limned, 
Stand  the  birches  silver  trimmed. 


HOAR-FROST.  11 

Over  all  the  zones  of  earth. 
Have  the  birches  had  their  birth, 
Heat  and  cold  they  both  endure 
In  their  robes  of  samite  pure. 


HOAK-FEOST. 

WHAT  weaver's  shuttle  wove  the  livelong  night 
The  faery  robe  so  glistening,  so  bright, 
So  fragile  spun  its  work  of  filigree, 
Which  ornaments  the  twigs  of  every  tree  ? 

The  evening  air  was  moist  and  very  still, 
And  so  the  hoar-frost  worked  its  own  sweet  will, 
And  scattered  far  and  near  a  wealth  of  gems 
Which  crested  hedge  and  tree  with  diadems. 

Such  wonder-work  as  graces  leaf  and  tip, 
A  human  worker's  fortune  would  equip  ; 
Which  Nature's  busy  fingers  all  night  plied 
To  deck  in  dazzling  white  the  country-side. 

Exquisite  are  its  beauties,  tender,  frail, 
So  frail,  before  an  elfin's  wings  they  quail ; 
Finer  in  texture  than  the  lichens  gray, 
By  the  same  hoar-frost  set  in  sweet  array. 


12  SNOW. 


SNOW. 

THE  dull,  gray  clouds  which  overhung  the  earth, 
When  the  sun  set  and  the  young  moon  had  birth, 
Left  all  the  plains  and  woods  and  rivulets 
To  sense  of  sight  outlined  in  silhouettes. 

Anon  the  myriad  flakes  of  crystal  snow, 
In  a  white  medley,  dancing,  drifting  slow, 
Descend  in  an  illimitable  host, 
Unchartered  as  the  white  sands  on  the  coast. 

And  with  the  morning  light  my  glad  eyes  see 
A  fair  white  robe  spread  far  upon  the  lea  ; 
It  covers  all  the  naked  earth,  and  lies 

Upon  its  breast  like  flowers  from  Paradise. 

,*$ 

So  multiform  the  shapes  the  snow  assumes, 
When  Sol  with  radiant  beams  the  waste  illumes, 
That  in  its  architecture  all  may  trace 
The  work  of  Him  who  ruleth  time  and  space. 


1CICLE&  13 


ICICLES. 

ABROAD  was  shed  the  thickly  falling  mist, 
Which,  yielding  to  the  idle  winds  that  list 
Not  where  they  wander,  floated  out  of  sight, 
And  left  behind  fresh  visions  of  delight 

For  where  its  dreary  volume  was  unrolled 
New  beauties  every  limb  and  twig  enfold, 
Gleaming  more  fair  than  colonnades  of  spar 
On  shimmering  cascades  'neath  the  midnight  star. 

The  pine  tree's  needles  jewel-studded  are, 
The  spruce  bough's  pendants  glitter  from  afar, 
And  all  the  apple  orchard  is  bedight 
In  magic  armories  of  crystal  light. 

And  many  thousand,  thousand  beads  are  hung 
Upon  the  vines  which  climb  the  hills  among, 
As  make  the  wintry  scene  to  coruscate 
More  bright  than  Bagdad's  minarets  of  state. 


A    WINTER  SUNSET. 


A  WINTER    SUNSET. 

THE  spent  leaves,  dying  'neath  a  cloudy  sky, 
Are  sere  and  sapless,  copper-hued,  and  dry  ; 
But  as  the  sun  behind  the  hill  descends 
His  glory  tints  of  crimson  to  them  lends. 

And  as  the  bars  of  gold  and  rose  adorn 

The  western  sky,  and  purpling  clouds  forewarn 

The  wane  of  day,  on  all  the  forest  falls 

A  splendor  such  as  shines  from  heaven's  walls. 

And  now  'mid  all  the  tree-tops  interlaced, 
Cathedral  windows  seem  to  be  embraced 
In  magic  traceries,  through  which  the  love 
Of  God  in  glory  streams  from  heaven  above. 

This  scene,  so  fair,  so  bright,  so  full  of  heaven, 
That  sin  seems  from  the  earth  forever  driven, 
Makes  e'en  the  unseen  world  appear  more  near, 
And  fellowship  of  love  finds  refuge  here. 


TO  A  SEA-SHELL.  15 


TO  A  SEA-SHELL. 

FROM  the  puissance  of  the  sea, 

With  thine  iridescent  crest, 
From  thy  home  why  did'st  thou  flee, 

Here  upon  the  beach  to  rest  ? 

From  thy  dentate,  narrow  lips, 

Nacre  brilliant,  silky,  white, 
Bears  the  surf-foam,  as  it  drips 

Down  thy  cheeks  in  refluent  flight. 

Azure,  pink,  and  violet, 

Banded  brown,  and  spotted  red, 
And  in  rose  and  purple  set, 

Oh,  what  Leauteous  hues  they  shed  ! 

In  the  blue  sky  over  thee 

Cloudy  whorls  of  white  and  rose 

Drift  on  an  eternal  sea, 

And  rifted,  spines  like  thine  disclose. 

Vasty  shells,  uphung  in  air, 
Beauteous  tints  like  thine  reveal, 

Touched  with  pigments  rich  and  rare, 
Where  the  sunbeams  round  them  reeL 


16  TO  A   SEA-SHELL. 

Soon  the  cloud-drifts  disappear, 
And  I  turn  my  gaze  below — 

Heaven's  height  and  sea-depth  clear 
Both  bespeak  the  God  I  know. 


HERE  AND  THERE.  17 


HEEE  AND  THEKE. 

SET  in  frame  of  softest  blue, 
Pearl  of  price  beyond  compute, 

With  a  lustre  ever  new, 
Her  supernal  attribute ; 

Round  her  cluster  all  the  stars, 

Glory-gilding  clouded  bars. 

See  the  mellow-tinted  moon 
Drift  across  the  border-land, 

This  rose-scented  eve  in  June, 
'Twixt  the  hill-top  where  I  stand, 

And  the  woody  belt  I  con, 

Which  her  disc  now  fringes  on. 

All  the  intervening  space, 

Gleams  with  wash  of  golden  beams, 
Till  away  doth  fancy  chase 

All  that's  earthly  in  life's  dreams, 
Till  the  love  which  seems  so  far, 
Beckons  like  a  guiding  star. 

Till  my  soul  doth  upward  go, 

Toward  the  distant  seeming  goal, 

Distancing  time's  overflow, 
Far  beyond  the  farthest  pole, 

And  commune th  here  and  there, 

Free  as  lark  in  fields  of  air. 


18  02\r  THE  BEACH. 


ON  THE  BEACH. 

HERE  along  the  shingly  beach, 
With  the  waves  just  out  of  reach, 
Hermit  crabs  go  crawling  by, 
Where  upon  the  sands  we  lie. 

Looking  out  into  the  West, 
See  the  sun,  in  glory  drest, 
With  rare  splendor  round  his  head, 
Sink  into  his  purple  bed. 

See  the  burnished  bars  of  gold, 
And  the  wealth  of  gems  untold, 
Lavished  round  the  couch  of  state, 
Fashioned  for  day's  potentate. 

Crimson  gleams  the  billow's  crest 
'Neath  the  light  that  floods  the  West, 
As  if  Phoebus  loved  the  roar, 
Echoing  along  the  shore. 

Purple  glow  the  heavens  now, 
Arching  o'er  the  day-god's  brow, 
Shading  into  boundless  blue, 
Where  the  stars  come  peeping  through. 


ON  THE  BEACH.  19 

Reaching  Neptune's  verge  anon, 
Fleecy  clouds  he  rests  upon, 
Upward  dart  his  parting  rays, 
Far  into  the  heavenly  ways. 


Now  the  beetling  cliffs  grow  black, 
Darker  grows  the  floating  wrack, 
And  athwart  the  darkling  sky, 
One  stray  sunbeam  passes  by. 

Sweetly  breaks  the  mellow  light 
Of  chaste  Phoebe  on  the  night, 
And  upon  the  height  of  heaven 
See  the  starry  sights  engraven. 

Phoebe  shows  a  full,  round  face, 
Flecked  with  clouds  like  filmy  lace  ; 
O'er  the  sea  she  casts  a  gleam, 
Transient  as  a  summer  dream. 

Seems  it  now  a  shaft  of  gold, 
Graved  by  cunning  jinns  of  old, 
Mystic  symbols  on  it  traced, 
In  the  Sea's  mysterious  waste. 

Resting  on  the  moonlit  beach, 
Here  we  need  nor  sign  nor  speech, 
Universal  truths  to  learn, 
Or  God's  power  to  discern. 


20  ON  THE  BEACH. 

Sea-shells  murmur  at  our  feet, 
Bhythmic  measures,  low  and  sweet, 
While  faint  voices  from  above 
Sweetly  whisper,  "  God  is  love." 


M 0  UNT  A  GASS1Z.  2 1 


MOUNT  AGASSIZ. 

ABOUND  me  stand  the  everlasting  hills, 

Whose  peaks  on  peaks  in  outline  rise  and  fall ; 

And  as  I  gaze  my  soul  with  rapture  fills, 

And  bows  before  my  God,  who  made  them  all. 


n. 

At  sunrise,  capped  with  clouds  and  mists,  they  seem 
To  pierce  the  sky,  and  entering  in  uplift, 

They  offer  incense  from  their  heights  a  gleam 
To  Him  who  dwells  above  the  clouds  they  rift. 


in. 

At  sunset  bright  are  the  empurpled  hills, 

With  glory  tinted,  poured  from  out  God's  hand  ; 

The  watcher's  heart  with  awe  and  reverence  thrills, 
Before  the  scene  mysterious  and  grand. 


rv. 

The  skies,  which  leaden  were,  are  rosy  now, 

And,  while  I  lingering  gaze,  are  flushed  with  gold  ; 

And  flaming  crimson  decks  the  mountain's  brow, 
And  pencils  ere  it  fades  each  outline  bold. 


22  MOUNT  AGASSIZ. 


V. 


And  as  the  sun  sinks  to  its  evening  rest, 
Behold  the  Eastern  slopes  are  kindled  now, 

With  the  same  tints  which  fading  in  the  West 
With  brightness  do  the  Eastern  hills  endow. 


VI. 


And  as  I  view  the  wondrous,  changing  sheen, 

My  arms  stretch  outward  toward  the  glorious  sky, 

My  eyes  enchanted  view  the  varying  scene, 
My  heart  cries  out,  "  My  God  is  passing  by !  " 


vn. 


From  West  to  East  the  gorgeous  tints  have  passed, 
And  so  from  earth  to  heaven  my  thoughts  arise, 

And  range  from  passing  clouds  to  mountains  fast, 
And  thence  to  One  who  reigns  above  the  skies. 


* 


v 


WRECKED.  23 


WRECKED. 

AN  awful  storm  has  wrecked  our  bark, 
And  death  stares  at  us  grim  and  stark  ; 
Across  the  illimitable  waves 
A  requiem  moans  -its  piercing  staves. 

Just  where  the  fading  belt  of  blue 
Bids  the  wild-rolling  waves  adieu, 
There  dies  our  hope,  all  refuge  fails, 
The  sun  is  set,  the  daylight  pales. 

And  yonder  mockery  of  aid, 

Which  our  strained  vision  would  persuade 

Us  to  be  speeding  on  our  lee — 

'Tis  but  a  phantom  of  the  sea. 

What  though  the  heavens  be  bright  above, 
And  round  our  hearts  twine  those  we  love, 
The  rising  waters  doom  record, 
The  countless  stars  no  aid  afford. 

No  help,  great  God  !  our  hearts  despair ! 
For  death  at  sea,  and  heaven  prepare ! 
We  must  'neath  ocean  depths  soon  dwell, 
While  o'er  us  restless  billows  swell. 


24  WRECKED. 

With  boats  all  gone,  the  hull  a  wreck, 
With  nought  to  do  but  pace  the  deck  ! 
And,  while  we  pray,  the  wrecked  bark  goes, — 
What  horrors  follow,  no  man  knows. 


I  LOVE  HER  STILL.  25 


I  LOVE  HEE  STILL. 

AMONG  the  guava  trees  I  sit, 
And  round  me  tropic  songsters  flit ; 
But  memory  seeks  the  far-off  shore, 
Where  dwells  the  maiden  I  adore. 

I  should  have  plighted  her  my  troth, 
Before  my  vessel  left  the  Forth, 
But  ah,  I  feel  she  knew  full  well 
What  faltering  courage  failed  to  tell. 

While  all  about  me  is  so  fair, 

And  Nature's  concert  floods  the  air, 

I  wonder  if  my  Marion  dear 

StiU  sings  the  songs  I  loved  to  hear. 

I  often  thought  before  I  left, 

If  of  her  love  I  were  bereft, 

I  could  not  bear  to  sail  away, 

Since  grief  would  haunt  me  day  by  day. 

Oh,  had  I  spoken  but  the  word, 
And  her  low  murmured  answer  heard  ; 
I  could  have  won  her  long  ago, 
For  that  she  loved  me  well,  I  know. 


26  I  LOVE  HER  STILL. 

And  now  my  mission  here  is  done, 
Beneath  this  brightly  setting  sun — 
Oh,  blessed  thought,  111  soon  be  home, 
And  win  her  e'er  again  I  roam. 

I  know  I'll  find  her  as  of  yore — 
Ay,  mayhap  sweeter  than  before ! 
A  lily  tall  with  its  sweet  grace, 
The  rose's  bloom  upon  her  face. 

I  picture  her  in  robes  of  white, 
Her  neck  en  wreathed  in  jewels  bright, 
With  eyes  of  radiant  heavenly  blue, 
And  braided  hair  of  golden  hue. 

But  soon  will  come  the  happy  day, 
When  by  her  side  Til  whispering  say, 
"  Oh,  love  !  you  hold  in  thrall  my  heart, 
Ah,  bid  me  not  from  you  depart." 

I  long  to  say,  "  I  love  you  dear ! 
The  heart  I  offer  is  sincere," 
And  oh,  I  trust  to  hear  her  say, 
"  I  loved  you  ere  you  went  away." 


IS  HE  TRUE?  27 


IS  HE  TRUE? 

LORD  OSWALD  comes  to  make  me  grace, 
With  noble  mien  and  handsome  face, 
And  dainty  curls  about  his  brow  ; 
O  !  will  he  say  he  loves  me  now  ? 

But  cease,  my  heart,  and  throb  not  so  ! 
My  hopes  were  buried  long  ago  ; 
For  since  he  went  for  absence  long, 
My  love  has  sung  no  lover's  song. 

He  surely  might  some  word  have  said, 
E'en  though  it  made  my  cheeks  turn  red  ; 
Some  simple  word  in  love's  sweet  lore, 
Before  he  sailed  for  India's  shore. 


We  might  have  parted  lovers  true, 
He  should  have  said  I  love  but  you, 
But  no,  he  sailed  and  left  a  smart 
Not  yet  quite  healed  within  my  heart. 

O  !  how  I  longed  to  hear  him  say 
"Forget  me  not,  my  love,  I  pray." 
Alas  !  he  left  no  lover's  word, 
To  bind  our  hearts  in  sweet  accord. 


28  IS  HE  TRUE? 

So  oft  to  visit  me  he  came, 

I  thought  my  hand  he  soon  must  claim  ; 

His  heart  so  gentle  was  and  fair 

My  love  could  not  but  nestle  there. 

And  yet  his  letters  are  so  kind, 
That  if  they  do  not  speak  his  mind, 
I  think  he  holds  within  his  breast 
The  love  that  sure  could  make  me  blest. 

This  day  he  comes,  the  hour  draws  near, 
I  wonder  how  I  shall  appear  ! 
Of  all  the  visits  he  has  made, 
I  ne'er  before  have  felt  afraid. 

I  think  he  liked  me  drest  in  white, 
My  neck  close-clasped  with  jewels  bright, 
For,  when  he  smoothed  my  braids,  he  said, 
"  A  faery  clasp,  for  faery  maid." 

But  hark  !  he  comes  !     Heave  not,  my  breast, 
But  strive  to  be  like  one  at  rest ! 
I'll  don  my  robe,  and  deck  my  brow, 
To  hear  him  say,  "I  love  thee  now." 


WHAT  IF?  29 


WHAT  IF? 

WHAT  if  I  other  things  forget, 

I  wis  not  this  ; 

JTis  many  years  since  first  we  met ; 
The  stile  was  damp,  the  grass  was  wet ; 
The  April  shower  was  just  now  past ; 
And  from  the  clouds,  hung  overcast, 
The  sun,  in  peeping  through  the  mist, 
Just  at  the  stile  her  sweet  lips  kist ; 
And  then  the  silver- fretted  clouds 
His  captured  beams  did  send,  in  crowds 
Of  brightest  gleams,  her  face  to  light 
Until  she  shone  a  faery  sprite  ; 
As,  laughing,  from  the  stile  she  came, 
She  seemed  as  if  of  heaven  a  flame, 
For  once  again  the  sun  shone  through 
In  golden  glory,  set  in  view 
Upon  her  brow,  his  coronet, — 
Which  if,  I  all  things  else  forget, 

Not  this  I  wis, 

My  beauteous  maiden,  wondrous  fair, 
Adorned  with  Nature's  gifts  most  rare. 


30  WAIFS  FltOM  THE  SEA. 


WAIFS  FROM  THE  SEA. 

FROM  the  shore-line  of  the  sea, 
Spreads  the  shell-encrusted  beach, 

Where  the  wild  waves,  wild  and  free, 
Mingle  sighs  with  stormy  speech. 

Brightly  glistens  all  the  foam, 

On  the  tumbling  billows'  crests, — 

Shining  in  a  monochrome 

On  the  emerald  of  their  breasts. 

Hark,  how  mingled  is  their  roar, 
Their  mad  minstrelsy  of  sound, 

As  the  seas  break  on  the  shore 
In  a  never-ceasing  round. 

See,  the  frenzy  of  the  spray, 

Seething  forward,  lurching  back, 

Leaving  on  the  shingled  way 

Glittering  sea-shells  'mid  the  wrack. 

From  wide  valleys  far  below, 
Verdurous  with  moss  and  fern, 

Where  the  pearl  and  coral  grow, 

Come  the  shells  the  spent  waves  spurn. 


WAIFS  FROM  THE  SEA.  31 

And  while  rising  billows  sport, 

Grand  in  their  immensity, 
Waifs  of  ocean  bring  report 

Of  the  realms  beneath  the  sea. 

Wondrous  is  their  speech  to  me, 
Of  old  Neptune's  wat'ry  sphere, 

Where  the  Tritons  wander  free, 
Careless  of  the  monsters  near. 


32  GROWTH. 


GEOWTH. 

MYSTERIOUS  principle  of  life, 
With  which  the  universe  is  rife  ! 
All  things  in  order  have  their  birth, 
O'er  all  the  face  of  mother  earth. 

Whence  comes  the  lily's  power  to  grow, 
Into  the  sweetness  it  doth  shew, 
Forcing  the  earth  which  weighed  it  down, 
Until  by  growth  it  wears  its  crown  ? 

The  hidden  power  which  you  possess, 
You  exercise  without  distress, 
Organic  growth  brings  into  view 
The  paths  that  Nature  doth  pursue. 

God  gives  us  power  to  grow  indeed, 
But  not  by  fretting,  nor  by  speed  ; 
The  lily  toils  not,  nor  doth  spin, — 
By  growth  let  us  our  victory  win. 

Outgrow  our  imperfections  here, 
Find  the  full  orb  of  love's  sweet  sphere, 
Not  knowing  how  the  growth  is  won, 
Till  we  the  heavenly  crown  put  on. 


OVER  LIFERS  STREAM.  33 


OVEK  LIFE'S  STEEAM. 

ONWARD  we  glide, 

Bravely  we  are  sailing, — 
Flood  is  the  tide, 

Fair  winds  prevailing. 

Free  sails  the  boat, 

Which  the  wind  seizes  ; 

Our  pennon  floats 
Out  on  the  breezes. 

Swiftly  we  bound, 
Canvas  outspreading  : 

Light  shines  around 
Where  we  are  heading. 

Over  life's  stream, 

On  toward  the  beaches, 
Where  heaven's  gleam 

Breaks  o'er  the  reaches. 

Over  the  bar, 

Into  the  harbor ; 
Home  from  afar, 

Rest  from  our  labor. 

Home  !  raise  the  shout, 

Tempests  more — never  ; 
Helm  put  about, 

Heaven  forever ! 
3 


34  CONCEPTS. 


CONCEPTS. 

How  God-like  is  the  human  mind, 

How  vast  its  wondrous  schemes  outwrought, 
Perfect  in  form  when  first  conceived, 

As  when  to  consummation  brought ! 

The  shape  the  architect  designed 

Through  weary  years  of  building  rose 

The  plans  matured  his  mind  within 
Their  beauties  now  to  all  disclose. 

When  through  the  ages  looking  down, 
Some  genius  sees  the  world  in  need, 

What  though  his  body  turns  to  dust, 
If  time  shall  find  his  plans  succeed  ! 

We  walk  in  grand  cathedral  aisles, 

Which  some  great  artist  mind  conceived, 

And,  though  forgot  his  name  and  race, 
He  lives  for  aye,  his  work  achieved. 


IN  MEMORIAM.  35 


IN  MEMOKIAM. 

JAMES   ABRAM    GARFIELD. 

GREAT  man,  humanity  full-orbed  wert  thou — 

Its  common  cause  so  grandly  served  would  now, 

By  brightness  of  thy  life  made  truly  rich, 

Set  thee  on  high,  enshrined  in  holy  niche  ; 

The  memories  of  thy  deeds,  so  great,  so  vast, 

Shall  mingle  with  historic  glories  past, 

And,  with  the  lapse  of  time,  Thy  name  shall  stand 

Foremost,  of  those  whose  lives  were  simply  grand  ! 

Heroic  soul !  in  thee  were  all  combined 

The  springs  which  reached  the  hearts  of  all  mankind ; 

The  wide  world  sings  its  requiem  at  thy  grave  ; 

Ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  hearts  do  move, 

In  deepest  sympathy  and  tenderest  love, 

Touched  by  the  noble  life  they  could  not  save. 


TRAMPLED  FLOWERS. 


TBAMPLED  FLOWERS. 

WENDING  my  way  along  a  field, 

I  crossed  a  stile  beside  a  wood, 
Whose  haunts  arboreal  revealed 

A  fragrance  'mid  the  solitude. 

Some  dainty  foot  had  passed  before, 
Trampling  on  Nature's  wealth  of  bloom, 

For  flowers  crushed  its  impress  bore, 
And  shed  a  wealth  of  sweet  perfume. 

Nor  bud  nor  petal  had  it  spared, 

Slight  semblance  of  their  grace  was  left, — 
In  death  with  life  they  freely  shared 

Their  scents,  though  of  all  else  bereft. 

What  buds  and  flowers  of  mortal  life, 
By  ruthless  feet  are  trodden  down 

And  lost  to  sight,  in  the  mad  strife 
That  spoils  them  of  their  fair  renown. 

The  sweet  sighs  of  these  trampled  flowers, 
Breathe  benediction,  though  abased, 

On  wicked  hearts  through  all  the  hours : 
Would  their  full  bloom  our  life  had  graced ! 


PEACE.  37 


PEACE. 

TOILING  through  the  seething  pass, 
"Where  the  current  swiftly  rolled, 

And  the  eddies  curled  the  grass, 
And  the  rifts  were  manifold, 

Came  we  to  a  broader  stream, 

Placid  as  a  summer  dream. 

Out  of  turmoil  into  peace, 
Out  of  foaming  waters  wild, 

Into  Nature's  sweet  surcease, 
Where  the  lilies  undefiled 

Showed  their  buds,  and  opened  wide, 

White  and  yellow,  side  by  side. 

Leaving  in  the  thwarts  our  oars, 

Listlessly  we  sat  at  ease, 
Gazing  at  the  verdant  shores, 

Where  the  velvet-coated  bees 
Sipped  the  sweets  of  many  flowers 
Through  the  golden  summer  hours. 

On  the  sloping,  pebbly  beach 
Found  we  space  to  bide  awhile, 

Culling  lilies  within  reach, 

That  their  beauties  might  beguile 

Later  labors  of  the  day, 

When  our  craft  should  speed  away. 


38  PEACE. 

Peace,  sweet  peace,  was  all  around, 

Near  the  shore  where  weeds  grew  rank, 

On  the  cliffs  where  ferns  were  found, 
On  the  shallows  wide  and  dank, 

And  the  only  music  there 

Was  the  birds'  songs  high  in  air. 


A  RHINE  LEGEND.  39 


A  RHINE  LEGEND. 

ONE   MAN   AT   PHILLIPSBUKG. 

THE  night  is  dark,  and  far  beyond  the  trench 

Loom  up  the  gloomy  heights  of  Phillipsburg  ; 

In  the  French  camp  a  quiet  move  is  made, 

The  order  having  issued  to  prepare 

To  storm  the  walls.     "  See  you  yon  lonely  place 

Whose  undefended  parapet  appears  ? 

Select  you  (so  the  order  runs)  your  men. 

No  cravens — stout,  brave-hearted  must  they  be — 

Danger  is  imminent,  success  must  be 

Assured.     The  storming  ladders  must  be  borne 

By  men  invincible  who  to  victory  march." 

So,  picked  from  out  the  ranks,  twelve  men  appear, 

Who  the  great  undertaking  dare  achieve. 

Right  royally  they  answer  to  the  call — 

Those  noble  grenadiers !     It  seems  the  twelve 

Must  surely  win  the  walls,  so  grand  they  are. 

See   them   advance !     They   cross  the   trench   and 

plant 

Their  ladders  on  the  walls.     They  little  reck 
That  at  that  very  spot  the  parapet 
Is  guarded  safe.     One  brave,  though  raw,  recruit 
Keeps  faithful  vigil,  and  is  well  prepared 
To  do  and  dare,  whate'er  may  come  to  him, 
And  will  not  fail  in  noble  deed  this  night. 
Halberd  in  hand  and  pacing  through  his  watch, 


40  A  RHINE  LEGEND. 

He  goes,  quite  unexpectant  of  alarm, 

When  suddenly  above  the  wall  appears 

The  head  of  one  brave  grenadier,  who  seeks 

To  plant  his  feet  upon  the  wall,  and  thus 

Make  entrance  sure  for  those  who  follow  him. 

The  sentinel  advancing,  cries  "Ho  !  ho  ! 

Let  me  show  you  the  way,"  and  throws  him  back. 

Hardly  a  minute  had  elapsed,  when  lo  ! 

The  same  face  re-appears — the  deed  to  achieve 

Which  at  the  first  attempt  was  not  secured. 

But  this  miscarried  as  the  other  did, 

As  down  he  falls.     Again  the  grenadier 

Climbs  up  the  wall  and  he  too  is  repulsed, 

Until  the  twelfth  assault,  thus  nobly  met, 

Has  given  that  brave  recruit  from  vain  attacks 

A  rest.     Halberd  in  hand  does  he  resume 

His  watch,  until  from  guard  he  is  relieved. 

The  sergeant  after  change  inquires  of  him 

As  to  his  watch,  and  he  replies  that  naught 

Occurred,  save  that  a  grenadier  appeared 

Upon  the  wall  twelve  times,  and  he  had  piished 

Him  back  on  each  attempt.     The  sergeant  looked, 

And  in  the  trench  twelve  mangled  corpses  lay, 

While  yet  their  ladder  hung  upon  the  wall ; 

So  valiantly  did  this  recruit  repel 

The  assault,   not   knowing   through  his  deed  and 

watch 

He  kept  the  fortress  safe.     Brave,  raw  recruit ! 
So  must  we  stand  on  guard  and  watchful  be, 
Unfailing  in  our  vigils,  and  repel 
Each  several  first  assault,  if  we  would  gain 
The  glorious  meed  of  immortality  ! 


REALIZATIONS.  41 


KEALIZATIONS. 

ALAS  !  how  many  hopes  of  life 
Are  blighted  ere  they  bloom  ; 

The  very  air  with  them  is  rife — 
These  blossoms  of  the  tomb. 


The  problems  which  we  seek  to  solve, 

The  castles  which  we  build, 
The  dreams  we  dream,  how  they  dissolve, 

As  if  from  naught  distilled. 

The  grandest  concepts  of  our  minds, 

Each  highest,  noblest  aim, 
Are  blown  away  by  fickle  winds, 

And  never  known  to  fame. 


The  painter's  fancy  in  its  flight 

Discerns  the  vision  rare, 
His  work,  complete,  gives  less  delight, 

His  ideal  was  more  fair. 


As  soon  as  we  begin  our  tasks 

Our  changes  too  begin  ; 
Our  ideals,  too,  put  on  their  masks, 

How  can  we  hope  to  win  ? 


42  REALIZATIONS. 

And  so  our  plans,  however  cast, 

If  we  would  realize, 
We  must  pursue  with  labor  vast, 

Nor  count  the  sacrifice. 

Life's  grandest  projects  to  fulfil 
A  life-time  does  require  ; 

And  means  are  furnished  by  the  will 
That  does  the  soul  inspire. 

Then  let  us  fix  our  aims  so  high, 
With  heart  and  conscience  pure, 

That  all  our  acts  shall  beautify 
The  plans  our  lives  mature. 


SCHOOL-DAYS.  43 


SCHOOL-DAYS. 

How  bright  these  days  still  seem  to  glow, 

The  childhood  days  of  yore  ! 
Back  through  the  years  I  long  to  go — 

They  number  now  two-score. 

The  boys  have  reached  to  manhood's  prime, 

The  girls  to  womanhood, 
And  yet  I  seem  to  hear  the  chime 

Which  sounded  through  the  wood. 

The  merry  laughter  in  the  lane, 

The  pranks  of  youthful  days, 
The  joyous  trampings  through  the  grain, 

In  roundelay  of  plays. 

That  shorter  path  to  reach  the  school 

Along  the  graveyard  side, 
Our  shadows  slanting  o'er  the  pool — 

These  memories  still  abide. 

And  there  the  tablets  which  I  read 
Are  graved  with  names  I  love  ; 

I  need  not  stop  to  prove  their  meed, 
Who  are  in  heaven  above. 


44  SCHOOL-DA  YS. 

Of  those  now  come  to  man's  estate, 

How  varied  is  their  lot, 
The  weal  or  woe,  the  love  or  hate, 

Their  fortunes  have  begot. 

The  whitened  locks  of  ripe  old  age, 
We  none  of  us  have  found, 

But  when  we  reach  that  honored  stage, 
May  grace  divine  abound. 

And  when  we  gain  the  home  on  high. 

We'll  talk  our  school-days  o'er, 
And  hymn  His  praise  who  hears  the  cry 

Of  childhood  evermore. 


THE  OLD  MINISTER.  45 


THE  OLD  MINISTER 

AT  call  of  roll  he  answered  not, 

His  place  was  vacant  now  ; 
The  first  time  in  his  varied  lot, 

That  this  was  so,  we  trow. 

A  blessed  saint  of  fourscore  years, 
Of  sterling  worth  and  name, 

Who  modest  was,  and  knew  no  fears, 
And  lived  unknown  to  fame. 

So  diffident  and  yet  so  true, 

He  hid  his  needs  from  all, 
Until,  alas,  the  first  we  knew, 

He  was  a  poor-house  thrall. 

Why  did  he  hold  our  love  in  doubt  ? 

Why  did  he  grieve  us  so  ? 
Loud  rang  the  cry,  "  We'll  get  him  out, 

And  thus  our  love  will  show." 


What  if  he  never  asked  for  bread  ? 

'Twas  ours  to  see  him  through  ; 
To  give  to  him  both  food  and  bed, 

As  brethren  ought  to  do. 


46  THE  OLD  MINISTER. 

And  now  we  hear  the  sound  of  wheels ; 

Here  comes  the  sainted  one, 
Borne  in  the  arms  of  love,  he  feels 

A  monarch  on  his  throne. 

Beside  the  Bishop  place  his  chair, 

That  we  may  see  him  well ; 
And  as  he  waves  his  hat  in  air, 

His  presence  casts  a  spell. 

"  All  hail  the  power  of  Jesus'  name," 
The  gathered  concourse  sings  ; 

Through  love  the  old  man's  spared  the  shame 
The  poor-house  title  brings. 

No  more  the  old  man  needs  our  aid, 

For  him  the  angels  came, 
Though  slight  the  dole  the  world  him  paid, 

He  has  in  heaven  his  fame. 


THE  PAST.  47 


THE  PAST. 

THE  cottage  home  against  the  wood, 
Where  grew  the  banks  of  violets  wild, 

Whose  beauty  graced  the  neighborhood 
Of  the  lush  roses,  blushing  mild 

In  clustered  masses,  that  quite  hid 

The  prickly  hedge  which  they  bestrid. 

The  meadow  which  adjoined  the  wood, 
Was  full  of  daisies,  whose  large  eyes 

Would  gaze  upon  me  as  I  stood, 
With  look  so  full  of  glad  surprise, 

I  hid  behind  the  gay  woodbine, 

And  met  blue  eyes  which  were  divine. 

I  see  them  yet,  so  full  and  deep, 
I  cannot  call  the  years  as  flown, 

As  o'er  them  all  my  mind  doth  sweep, 
Through  all  that  I  have  felt  or  known, 

To  call  her  back  who  blushed  so  sweet, 

Behind  the  cottage  vines'  retreat. 

There  is  no  past ;  though  cottage  home, 
And  rose,  and  latticed  vine  are  not ; 

Though  o'er  the  meadows  as  I  roam, 
No  daisies  bloom  to  deck  the  spot, — 

I  have  them  all,  they  live  with  me, 

Those  blue  eyes  bear  them  company. 


48  REST. 


BEST. 

BY  the  roadside,  'neath  the  shade, 
Where  the  brooklet  murmurs  low, 

Where  the  ferns  the  rocks  invade, 
And  the  piny  odors  blow, 

Here  I  find  a  mossy  seat, 

In  this  still  and  cool  retreat. 

Oh,  the  sense  of  rest  divine, 

Which  the  heavenly  breezes  bring, 
Driving  from  this  heart  of  mine 

Pain,  and  care,  and  suffering, 
Till  to  me  it  haply  seems, 
Earth  is  filled  with  pleasant  dreams. 

Here  is  rest,  sweet  rest  indeed, 
Earthly  rest,  but  more  beside, 

From  all  carking  care  I'm  freed, 
And  I  float,  as  on  a  tide 

Of  rapt  thought,  to  realms  unseen, 

Aftermaths  of  joy  to  glean. 


THE  DESERTED   MOUNTAIN   WAT.  49 


THE  DESEKTED  MOUNTAIN  WAY. 

THE  lake  with  placid  depth  of  calm 
As  restful  as  a  babe  at  breast ; 

The  hamlets  haunted  by  the  balm, 
The  breeze  borne  on  from  out  the  West ; 

The  beeches  on  the  mountain-side, 
The  cascades  limpid,  leaping  down, 

The  landscape  opening  far  and  wide, 
The  hospice  dogs  of  wide  renown : 

The  avalanche's  direful  sweep, 
The  Edelweis  so  greatly  prized, 

The  pools  sequestered  and  asleep — 
These  all  in  memory  are  comprised. 

The  ever-changing  views  which  met 
The  eye  as  upward  yet  we  wound, 

The  rest  we  took,  well  ne'er  forget, 
When  gray  clouds  shut  out  all  around. 

When  all  below  and  all  on  high 

Were  plunged  in  one  vast  formless  sea, 

We  gladly  found  each  other  nigh, 
While  waiting  for  the  clouds  to  flee. 
4 


50  THE  DESERTED   MOUNTAIN   WAY. 

We  talked  of  all  the  paths  of  love, 
Of  clouds  which  sometimes  overhung, 

Through  which  we  pierced  the  heights  above, 
Where  songs  were  sung  the  trees  among. 

When  staff  in  hand  we  reached  the  top, 
The  summit  of  the  mountain  grand, — 

The  sloping  rays  forbade  a  stop, 
To  view  the  beauties  of  the  land. 

How  few  the  mountain  path  now  tread, 
To  share  these  visions  fair,  which  dwell 

In  memories  dear  before  us  spread  ; 
Most,  of  the  tunnelled  mountain  led. 


UNCONSCIOUSLY.  51 


UNCONSCIOUSLY. 

THE  sparkling  gem  unconscious  shines 

With  lustre  ever  new, 
Concealed  within  Golconda's  mines, 

Or  flashing  to  our  view. 

The  bird  which  warbles  in  the  tree, 
And  pours  its  soul  in  song, 

Is  heedless  of  the  harmony 
Its  joyous  notes  prolong. 

The  stars  which  gleam  upon  the  night 

Unconsciously  rehearse 
The  same  unending  hymn  of  light, 

To  all  the  Universe. 

The  buds  that  with  rare  beauty  ope 

Their  petals  to  our  gaze, 
Unconsciously  inspire  our  hope 

And  gladden  all  our  days. 

The  dewdrops  glistening  on  the  leaves 
Refresh  each  plant  and  tree  ; 

What  work  their  littleness  achieves, 
And  how  unconsciously ! 


52  UNCONSCIOUSLY. 

Unconsciously  the  good  man  shines, 

And  gilds  his  daily  life  ; 
His  godliness  his  walk  refines, 

His  days  with  good  are  rife. 

Unconsciously  mankind  bestows 
Its  meed  of  worthy  praise 

On  him,  whose  life  of  goodness  shows 
The  love  that  crowns  his  days. 


BON  VOYAGE.  53 


BON  VOYAGE. 

GOOD-BY,  fond  hearts,  good-by  ! 
The  land  I  love  now  fades  away, 
Aye,  fades  to  one  faint  belt  of  blue, 
Yet  still  methinks  in  sweet  array, 
I  see  you  wave  your  last  adieu, — 

And  say,  Good-by,  Good-by  ! 

Good-by,  dear  home,  good-by  ! 
The  ties  which  twine  about  my  heart, 
How  dear  they  grow  as  they  remove ! 
I  lift  a  prayer  with  lips  apart, 
"  God  keep  from  harm  the  souls  I  love," 

Meanwhile,  I  say,  Good-by  ! 

Good-by,  my  love,  good-by  ! 
I  query  oft  before  I  rest, 
Will  you,  my  love,  be  spared  to  me  ? 
Of  you,  my  heart  will  go  in  quest, 
Nor  can  I  sleep,  nor  tranquil  be 

Without  one  sweet  Good-by  ! 

Good-by,  farewell,  good-by ! 
How  oft  in  dreams,  as  on  I  sail, 
There  come  to  me  dear  white-robed  ones  ! 
And  when  they  leave  I  start  and  quail, 
Before  the  words  my  nature  shuns 

To  say,  "  Farewell,  Good-by  !  " 


54  BON   VOYAGE. 

Good-by,  to  all,  good-by ! 
If  good  or  ill  be  yours  or  mine, 
So  we  but  love,  and  pray,  and  trust, 
Through  storms  that  blow,  or  glad  sunshine, 
And  so  to  others  be  but  just, 

We'll  gaily  say,  "  Good-by." 


BUT   YESTERDAY.  55 


BUT  YESTEEDAY. 

BUT  yesterday  the  daisies  bloomed  so  sweet 
Amid  the  grass  about  my  wandering  feet ; 
To-day  the  flowers  are  fled,  the  grass  is  brown, 
And  all  is  covered  with  the  snow's  white  down. 


But  yesterday  the  red  rose  petals  oped, 
That  grew  upon  the  garden  side,  which  sloped 
Toward  the  lattice  where  I  sat,  and  breathed 
Their  fragrant  balm  through  ivies  interleaved. 

But  yesterday  and  all  the  Autumn  flowers, 
Purple  and  scarlet  clad,  revelled  in  bowers 
Of  royal  splendor, — to  the  Summer  gay 
A  sequence  fair,  as  rnoonrise  follows  day. 

But  yesterday  our  dreams  of  childhood  days 
Were  the  sole  visions  which  our  lips  did  praise, 
But  ere  our  childhood  song  had  found  a  tune 
Our  dreams  were  fled — as  morning  stars  at  noon. 

But  yesterday  it  seems  we  were  in  truth 
Amid  the  busy  scenes  and  joys  of  youth, 
When  fancy  built  its  castles  in  the  air, 
With  bannerets  and  turrets  gleaming  fair. 


5G  BUT  YESTERDAY. 

But  yesterday  our  hopes  were  realized, 
With  all  that  love  and  fond  ambition  prized  ; 
The  work  that  made  our  manhood's  high  estate 
We  toiled  and  labored  long  to  consummate. 

But  yesterday  we  plighted  troth  with  time, 
To-day  we  hear  the  clanging  bell,  whose  chime 
Eeminds  us  that  another  year  has  gone, 
No  matter  what  the  paths  we  travelled  on. 

Yesterday  and  To-day !     Let  words  of  grace 
Greet  all  our  days  as  they  meet  face  to  face  ; 
Yesterday  and  To-day !     One  quickly  flown, 
Over  the  other  be  sweet  roses  strewn ! 


AT  SUNSET.  57 


AT  SUNSET. 

SWEET  summer  night  so  soft  and  still, 
I  hear  the  roses  breathe  at  will 
Their  rich,  warm  fragrance  on  the  air, 
That  rests  upon  the  landscape  fair. 

The  clover  blossoms,  white  and  red, 
All  through  the  grass  their  perfume  shed  ; 
And  here  and  there  red  poppies  show, 
And  through  the  meadow  brightly  glow. 

The  sun  the  hill-top  brightly  gilds, 
And  all  the  heavy  wheat-head  fields ; 
It  shines  upon  the  village  spires, 
And  rare,  rich  tints  each  cloud  acquires. 

The  mountain  sides  of  olive  green 
Rest  on  the  grassy  velveteen ; 
The  sun  sinks  slowly  far  away, 
While  overhead  the  skies  are  gray. 

O,  quiet  hush  of  nature  sweet ! 
Which  balm  of  sleep  will  soon  complete, 
And  man  and  beast  lie  down  and  rest 
Beneath  the  heavens  with  beauty  drest. 


58  BETRA  YED. 


BETRAYED. 

To  rear  a  faith  through  slowly  passing  years, 
And  weep  but  now  such  biting,  scalding  tears ; 
To  find  fair  hopes,  long  cherished  in  my  breast, 
Overthrown,  and  tenantless  their  place  of  rest. 

With  weary  ploddings,  step  by  step  was  gained 
The  resting-place,  from  which  my  heart  so  pained 
Looks  out  upon  the  hopes  that  shattered  he, 
Striving  to  question  not  the  reason  why. 

To  be  betrayed  at  friendship's  golden  shrine, 
To  sever  each  sweet  cord  which  love  did  twine, 
How  bitter,  spending  all  the  years  now  past 
In  weaving  strands  thus  broken  at  the  last ! 

And  yet  shall  faith  forget  the  place  it  knew, 
Shall  trust  give  way  because  one  proves  untrue  ? 
Hope  on,  brave  heart,  and  build  another  nest, 
And  brood  young  loves  again  within  thy  breast. 

All  is  not  vain,  though  drear  may  be  the  day, 
Eebuild  thy  faith,  and  let  it  stand  for  aye. 
Who  knows  but  in  the  days  which  are  to  come, 
He  who  betrayed  thy  trust  shall  find  God's  home  ? 


NOONING.  59 


NOONING. 

BESIDE  our  gathered  sheaves  to  rest 
In  welcome  shade  at  hour  of  noon, 
And  view  the  harvest  not  yet  reaped, 
Is  joy  indeed  for  those  so  blest. 

The  noontide  meal  we  eat  with  zest, 
And  count  the  labor  we  have  spent, 
As  well  repaid  with  golden  grain, 
That  waves  so  fair  against  the  West. 

We  quaff  from  the  cool  rivulet 
That  waters  well  these  fruitful  fields, 
A  draught  that  brings  to  honest  toil 
A  pleasure  fraught  with  no  regret. 

And  now  we  sweep  the  cradle  strong, 
And  afterward  will  bind  the  grain, 
And  as  we  count  the  standing  sheaves, 
We'll  sing  the  happy  harvest  song. 


60  WEA  VINO. 


WEAVING. 

LIFE'S  looms  are  ever  weaving, 
Life's  shuttles  ever  plying, 
Life's  workers  ever  leaving, 
Life's  labors  soon  denying. 

Yet  ply  the  shuttles  gayly, 
Both  web  and  woof  inweaving 
Whose  mingling  shows  us  daily 
The  pattern  we're  achieving. 

What  though  some  threads  be  broken, 
The  texture  sadly  fraying, 
We  tie  the  knots  in  token 
Of  what  we  are  essaying. 

If  web  and  woof  are  golden, 
Design  divine  receiving, 
The  fabric,  when  unfolden 
Shall  leave  no  ground  for  grieving. 


DATS.  61 


DAYS. 

TIME  has  its  mile-posts  which  we  pass, 

Recalling  days,  alas  !  alas ! 

Sweet  halcyon  days  of  such  delight 

That  we  would  fain  have  stayed  their  flight. 

How  swift  the  dreamy  days  went  by ; 
When  suddenly  as  clouds  do  fly, 
And  lightnings  flash,  and  rains  do  fall, 
Our  dreams  were  gone  beyond  recall. 

How  glad  those  days,  how  bright  with  hope, 
Revealing  life's  divinest  scope, 
When,  pointing  to  the  heavenly  days, 
They  crowned  the  hours  with  songful  praise ! 

Those  sunny  days  which  knew  no  storm, 
Which  brought  no  burden,  nor  alarm, 
And  strewed  our  paths  with  myriad  flowers, 
Whose  fragrance  breathed  of  Spring-time  showers. 

And  days  there  have  been  of  despair, 
Days  laden  deep  with  heavy  care  ; 
Days  dark  with  storm  and  full  of  woe, 
These,  these  are  gone  !   Thank  God,  'tis  so. 


62  DA  YS. 

The  days  of  Spring-time,  bringing  bloom, 
Fast  drove  away  the  days  of  gloom  ; 
And  Summer  flowers  and  Autumn  fruit 
Have  followed  Spring  with  their  tribute. 

Fete  days,  red-lettered,  we  have  had, 
Whose  memories  now  do  make  us  glad ; 
And  Christmas  days,  which,  as  of  yore, 
Were  given  to  Him  whom  we  adore. 

And  though  such  signs  recall  the  past, 
While  all  the  leaves  are  falling  fast, 
These  may  not  thrust  life's  vision  out, 
So  long  as  faith  resolves  all  doubt. 

The  passing  days,  if  bright  or  dark, 
If  full  of  hope,  or  misery  stark, 
They  soon  will  be  forever  gone, 
And  Time,  Eternity  put  on. 

And  if  old  age  is  with  us  now, 
We  may  through  retrospect  avow, 
That  past  and  present,  both  are  one, 
And  wait  to  hear  Christ  say,  "  Well  done." 

To  thee  we  look,  Eternal  Day, 
When  all  earth's  days  will  fade  away, 
And  in  thy  vision,  grand,  sublime, 
Forget  the  days  we  knew  in  Time. 


BY  THE  SEA.  63 


BY  THE  SEA. 

MY  loved  sail  the  deep  sea  waves  by  great  winds 

crost, 

With  glittering  crests  by  the  tempest  tost, 
And  the  spectral  waves,  as  they  pass  like  clouds, 
Hide   their   ship  from  my   eyes  by  their   billowy 

shrouds. 

While  my  heart  cries  aloud  in  its  anguish  sore, 
The  waves  surge  on  with  tumultuous  roar, 
And  my  loved  ones  out  there  on  the  ocean  driven, 
Are  drifting  afar  from  their  homestead  haven. 

O,  my  heart  throbs  with  pain  as  over  the  sea 
It  breathes  out  a  prayer  that  my  loved  ones  may  be 
Preserved  in  Thy  goodness,  Thou  God  of  the  storm, 
Delivered  from  all  that  my  soul  does  alarm. 

I  bade  them  adieu  as  I  stood  on  the  pier, 
With  heart  full  of  hope,  and  no  trace  of  a  tear ; 
Nor  then  did  I  reck  but  the  ship  would  return, 
Bringing  back  to  me  those  I  fain  would  discern. 

My  God  !  shall  I  lose  those  my  heart  loves  so  well, 
Must  they  sink  'neath  the  waves  that  so  mountain- 
ous swell  ? 


C4  BY  THE  SEA. 

Or  shall  I  hope  on,  'till  the  tempest  subside, 
When  Thou  through  the  sea  a  safe  path  will  pro- 
vide? 

To  a  land  where  there  is  no  more  tempest  or  sea, 
Where  saved  are  the  shipwrecked,  and  I  soon  will 

ue, 

O,  there,  past  the  breakers  that  foam  on  the  strand, 
There,  there  !  with  the  Lord  is  the  blessed  home- 
land. 


IN  SICKNESS.  65 


IN  SICKNESS. 

ONLY  waiting, 

For  the  lifting  of  the  shadows  dim 
That  enshroud  the  blooming  of  the  rose  ; 
For  the  chaunting  of  the  heavenly  hymn 
That  shall  soothe  my  soul  to  sweet  repose. 

Only  waiting, 

For  the  kalends  of  this  pain  to  pass, 
For  my  aching  brain  to  find  relief, 
And  resolve  those  mysteries  which,  alas, 
Are  ministered  alone  by  woe  and  grief. 

Only  waiting, 

For  dear  faces  at  the  hearthstone  fire 
To  come  and  take  their  places  round  me  ; 
For  the  answer  to  my  fond  desire, 
That  they  from  every  sorrow  may  be  free. 

Only  waiting, 

For  the  voice  that  soon  will  grant  release 
From  the  weary  burden  of  my  pain  ; 
For  the  dawn  of  everlasting  peace, 
And  the  coming  of  Immanuel's  reign. 
5 


66  CATHEDRAL    WINDOWS. 


CATHEDEAL  WINDOWS. 

VERGEK,  come  with  me,  and  bring  your  keys, 
Ere  the  shadows  lengthen  through  the  trees, 
While  the  sun  sinks  slowly  to  the  West, 
Let  me  see  the  minster  at  its  best. 

Streaming  through  the  windows  painted  fair, 
What  a  flood  of  heavenly  glory  there, 
Falling  on  the  tessellated  floor, 
Thrills  me  as  I  stand  within  the  door. 

Mystic  splendor  dwells  in  all  the  nave, 
Blue  and  golden  beams,  and  crimson,  wave, 
All  aslant  the  widely  pillared  aisles, 
Where  they  drift  in  rainbow-tinted  files. 

Holy  transport  fills  my  trembling  heart, 
While  I  muse  from  all  the  world  apart ; 
And  methinks  the  mingling  colors  bright 
Are  faint  gleams  escaped  the  gates  of  light. 

In  the  aisles  the  holy  prophets  walk — 

List !  I  wait  to  hear  the  apostles  talk, 

'Mid  the  transept's-shadow  now  appears 

The  Lamb  whose  likeness  melts  my  eyes  to  tears. 


CATHEDRAL    WINDOWS.  67 

Looking  through  my  tears,  as  through  a  mist, 
O'er  the  altar  of  the  Eucharist, 
I  behold  within  the  windowed  West 
Glory  that  eclipses  all  the  rest. 

Peaceful  thoughts  my  passions  now  control, 
And  the  rapture  deepens  in  my  soul, 
My  lips  are  mute,  for  heaven  dwells  within, 
And  here  I  feel  its  ecstacy  begin. 

Grows  the  sense  ethereal  more  divine, 
While  I  meekly  worship  in  this  shrine  : 
And  I  straightway  seem  to  tabernacle  here 
With  the  Master  whom  I  so  revere  ! 

Muse,  my  soul,  and  worship  here  for  aye, 
Let  the  glory  stream  in  as  it  may  ; 
Perfect  harmonies  my  soul  ensphere, 
Visions  such  as  these  but  here  appear. 

O,  ye  dwellers  in  the  world  without, 
Mock  not  at  a  faith  that  holds  no  doubt ! 
Glories  through  these  windows  only  shine 
For  those  who  wait  on  Him,  the  Christ  divine  ! 


68  GAIN  BY  DEATH. 


GAIN  BY  DEATH. 

DEATH  is  but  usher  to  a  change 
Of  place  and  circumstance  ; 

And  has  no  being  in  the  range 
Of  heaven's  inheritance. 

Leave  him  the  vestments  of  the  soul 

At  verge  of  his  domain  ; 
Pure  spirits  only  pass  the  goal 

Beyond  which  angels  reign. 

What  though  the  longest  span  of  life 
Gives  space  to  fight  with  sins  ; 

Death  brings  the  ending  of  the  strife — 
Eternal  Life  begins. 

Freed  from  all  incubi  by  Death, 
Up  through  the  space  we  soar 

To  join  the  living  commonwealth, 
A.nd  Christ  the  King  adore ! 


THE  FIRST  CHRISTMAS  EVE.  69 


THE  FIEST  CHEISTMAS  EVE. 

THE  weary  earth  is  hushed  to  rest, 

The  sun  has  sunk  into  the  West, 

And  tender  rays  of  golden  light 

Crown  Bethlehem's  crest  with  glory  bright. 

The  terraced  rows  of  olive  trees, 
The  vines  that  rustle  in  the  breeze, 
Illumined  are  with  crimson  hue, 
Which  robes  the  hills  in  vesture  new. 

The  brook  glides  on  its  banks  between, 
The  flocks  He  down  in  pastures  green, 
Their  watches  now  the  shepherds  keep, 
And  village  folk  are  wrapped  in  sleep. 

The  moon  full-orbed  floats  into  view, 
The  Pleiades  their  path  pursue, 
The  milky-way  o'erspreads  the  sky, 
And  peace  on  all  the  earth  doth  He. 

No  sound  upon  the  stillness  breaks, 
Nor  rude  alarm  the  welkin  wakes, 
And  e'en  the  shepherds'  trusty  guide, 
Is  silent  by  his  master's  side. 


70  THE  FIRST  CHRISTMAS  EVE. 

This  blessed  night  upon  the  plain 
Will  see  begin  Immanuel's  reign, 
When  countless  hosts  will  till  the  sky, 
And  God  his  Son  will  glorify. 

And  can  it  be  He  comes  this  night, 
That  Heaven  and  Earth  will  soon  unite, 
That  heralds  of  the  heavenly  King, 
The  fulness  of  the  times  shall  sing? 

If  shepherds'  hearts  commune  with  God, 
As  down  the  vale  their  path  is  trod, 
They  have  no  sweet  expectancy 
Of  what  their  eyes  so  soon  shall  see  ; 

Or  that  the  angel  hymns  at  morn 
Will  teach  them  that  the  Christ  is  born, 
Or  that  they'd  haste  to  worship  Him, 
Whose  glory  time  shall  never  dim. 


THE  CHRISTMAS   GLORY.  71 


THE  CHRISTMAS  GLORY. 

ARISE  !  O,  my  soul,  on  this  Christmas  so  blest, 
And  tell  the  glad  story,  to  shepherds  confest, 
Of  the  mercy  of  God  and  His  infinite  love, 
In  sending  salvation  from  Heaven  above. 

I  wish  I  had  been  with  the  shepherds  that  night, 
When  the  angelic  herald,  all  haloed  with  light, 
Burst  forth  'mid  the  stars,   through  the  heavenly 

gate, 
With  message  of  love,  fraught  with  promise  so  great. 

No  wonder  the  glory  of  God  shone  around, 
For  never  on  earth  did  such  blessings  abound  ; 
The  Father,  in  mercy,  His  own  Son  had  given, 
Announcing  his  gift  by  an  angel  from  Heaven. 

Great  tidings  of  joy  for  his  message  he  brought, 
Which  were  to  all  people  by  sin  sore  distraught : 
He  said  to  the  shepherds,  by  night  watches  worn, 
A  Saviour  for  men,  Christ  the  Lord,  has  been  born. 

Then  came  the  sweet  harpers  and  seraphs  of  song, 
In  shining  array — what  a  glorious  throng ! 
No  wonder  the  souls  of  the  shepherds  were  stirred, 
When  the  bright-winged  choir  celestial  was  heard  ! 


72  THE   CHRISTMAS   GLORY. 

How  grand  and  how  solemn  that  anthem  so  sweet, 
Which  my  soul  to  itself  doth  so  often  repeat ; 
Of  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,"  they  sang — 
A  psean  of  joy  that  through  all  the  world  rang. 

The  earth,  from  the  time  it  rolled  forth  from  God's 

hand, 

Had  never  heard  music  so  sweet,  or  so  grand, 
As  then  did  break  forth  in  melodious  strains 
On  the  silence  that  brooded  o'er  Bethlehem's  plains. 

Again  did  the  angels  renew  the  glad  song, 
And  sing  that  to  "  Men  of  good  will"  did  belong 
The  promise  and  portion  fulfilled  in  Christ's  birth, 
Of  "peace  universal  to  reign  upon  earth." 

And  then  the  bright  cohorts  to  Heaven  took  flight, 
And   the  white -winged   host  was  soon  folded  from 

sight ; 

While  the  shepherds,  in  search  of  the  heralded  Lord, 
Found  a  Saviour  to  worship  with  sweetest  accord. 

My  soul  sometimes  asks  if  the  wild  beasts  of  prey 
From  the  flocks  by  good  angels  were  banished  away, 
That  the  shepherds  might  go  to  the  infant  new-born, 
And  pay  their  glad  homage  ere  break  of  the  morn. 

Though  lowly,  how  faithful  those  shepherds  alway, 
In  tending  their  flocks  lest  they  wander  astray  : — 
Full  oft  in  my  heart  I  have  prayed  the  good  Lord, 
To  help  me  my  vigils  as  faithful  to  guard. 


MERCY  REGNANT.  73 

Now  the  wish  of  my  soul  this  bright  Christmas  day 
Is  to  bow  at  Christ's  feet,  and  my  glad  homage  pay, 
And  take  up  the  chorus  that  rang  o'er  the  plain, 
And  sing  with  the  angels  that  "  Glory  "  again. 


MERCY  REGNANT. 

WHILE  the  stars  about  them  coronet  and  shine, 
Like  a  haloed  glory  round  their  heads  divine, 
Lo  !  the  angels'  faces,  fill  the  vaulted  skies, 
Beaming  on  the  shepherds,  bringing  sweet  surprise. 

From  the  gates  of  heaven  issues  love  supreme, 
Shows  to  mortal  vision  its  supernal  beam, 
Magnifies  the  promise,  glorifies  the  word, 
Angels  bear  its  message.     Lo  !  the  song  is  heard. 

O,  the  shining  faces,  never  stained  with  tears, 
Bright  angelic  faces,  more  than  prophets,  seers ; 
Glad  they  chant  the  story,  sweetly  sing  of  "  Peace," 
Mercy's  heralds  of  the  hope  which  ne'er  shall  cease. 

White-stoled  Mercy  regnant  folds  her  silver  wings, 
Looking  down  the  ages  at  the  pearls  she  brings ; 
When  from  all  the  nations,  garnered  through   all 

time, 
Christ  shall  bring  His  jewels,  out  of  every  clime. 


74  THE  ADVENT. 


THE  ADVENT. 

HARK  !  the  heavenly  chords  resounding, 
Love  divine  on  earth  abounding, 
Sweetest  music  now  doth  greet  us — 
Lo,  the  angels  come  to  meet  us ! 

Heaven's  King  the  hosts  reviewing — 
See  !  their  earthward  course  pursuing, — 
Bright  arrayed  in  robes  of  glory, 
Come  the  throngs  to  chant  the  story. 

God  the  Father's  love  beholding, 
They,  His  mercy  new  unfolding, 
Fill  the  heavenly  vault  with  gladness, 
Bringing  balm  to  banish  sadness. 

To  the  shepherds  now  appearing, 
Angels  sing — O,  how  endearing  ! — 
"  Peace  on  earth  "  the  bright  plains  filling, 
Hearts  of  lowly  watchers  thrilling. 

To  the  manger  now,  delighted, 
By  the  angel  host  invited, 
While  their  music  yet  is  ringing, 
Shepherds  come,  their  homage  bringing. 


THE  ADVENT.  75 

Stoops  to  us  the  Lord  eternal — 
O,  the  height  of  Love  Supernal  : 
At  His  cradle  humbly  kneeling, 

O,  the  shrine  His  Grace  revealing. 

i 

Hail !     Thou  author  of  redemption, 
Let  us  feel  from  sin  exemption, 
Worship  Thee  this  Christmas  morning — 
Pledge  of  day  forever  dawning. 


76  AT  BETHLEHEM. 


AT*  BETHLEHEM. 

ALL  hail !  the  Prince  of  Peace  on  earth ; 

He  comes  of  royal  line, 
Through  all  the  world  make  known  the  birth 

Of  Christ,  the  Child  divine. 

The  Father's  glory  waits  on  him, 

Sweet  music  angels  bring ; 
Through  golden  gates  the  Seraphim 

Come  down  on  earth  to  sing. 

With  folded  wings  the  Cherubim 

Proclaim  that  Christ  is  born  ; 
Join  all  on  earth  in  praise  to  Him, 

Upon  this  Christmas  morn. 

The  wonderful !  the  mighty  God ! 

The  happy  earth  beholds  ; 
He  comes  !     King  David's  sovereign  Lord — 

His  Love  the  race  enfolds. 


Before  His  cradle  shepherds  bend, 
His  Star  above  them  gleams ; 

The  wise  men  with  their  gifts  attend, 
The  earth  with  glory  beams. 


AT  BETHLEHEM.  77 

The  life  so  lowly  here  begun, 

Our  sins  is  pledged  to  bear  ; 
Let  far  and  wide  the  tidings  run, 

His  pathway  to  prepare. 

The  Child  of  Bethlehem  to-day 

Is  hailed  in  every  land, 
The  Prince  of  Peace  our  hearts  doth  sway — 

By  loves'  supreme  command. 


78  CAPER  NA  UM  AT  EVENTIDE. 


CAPERNAUM  AT  EVENTIDE. 

O,  BURDEN-BEAKER  of  the  world,  do  Thou 
Behold  the  faith  of  those  who  seek  Thee  now : 
Tortured  with  ills,  they  fain  would  know  Thy  power, 
And  feel  Thy  gift  of  healing  in  this  hour. 

The  shades  are  gathering  round  this  place  of  rest, 
With  rosy  hues  the  Sun  fades  in  the  West  ; 
Have  pity,  Lord,  on  those  who  kneel  to  Thee, 
And  bid  them  rise,  from  every  sorrow  free. 

With  sightless  eyes,  upraised,  they  wait  for  cheer, 
Who  never  yet  have  seen  the  Lord  appear  ; 
With  tongues  yet  dumb,  they  for  their  Christ  await, 
That  praise  of  Him  may  shew  their  new  estate. 

With  shrunken  limbs,  and  bodies  all  unsound, 
With  fevered  brain  which  bears  its  burden  round, 
With  hectic  flush  which  fills  the  heart  with  fears — 
They  ask  Thy  pity,  Lord,  with  rising  tears. 

O  wondrous  scene  on  which  the  angels  look  ! 
O  wondrous  promise  in  God's  precious  Book  ! 
Himself,  the  woes  of  all  doth  bear  away  ; 
Himself,  doth  hear  those  who  for  healing  pray. 


CAPERNAUM  AT  EVENTIDE.  79 

The  blessed  Christ  the  Word  of  Healing  speaks, 
No  more  the  maniac  fills  the  air  with  shrieks, 
The  blind  now  see,  the  palsied  limbs  are  sound, 
The  loosened  tongues  with  Mercy's  praise  abound. 

And  at  this  hour  of  Eventide  all  hail 

The  Love  and  Power  that  in  His  Hands  prevail  ; 

For  so  the  ever-blessed  Kecord  reads, 

That  all  found  Healing,  in  their  utmost  needs. 

And  now,  my  Soul,  adore  this  Saviour,  too, 
For  He  his  gifts  of  Healing  wrought  for  you, 
He  loves  alway  His  mercy  sweet  to  show — 
His  benediction  rests  on  all  below. 


80  LOVE  DIADEMED    ON  EARTH. 


LOVE  DIADEMED   ON  EARTH. 

TRANSCENDENT  love  that  fills  the  sky, 
Enfolds  the  earth  and  blesses  man, 

Deep  in  the  heart  of  God  doth  lie, 
And  doth  eternal  aeons  span. 

Given  a  body  like  our  own, 
Walking  the  earth  a  holy  life, 

Bright  through  the  veil  of  flesh  it  shone, 
A  pledge  of  peace  'mid  worldly  strife. 

Pitiful,  meeting  every  need, 

Healing  all  wounds  that  sin  had  made, 
Ever  for  mercy  it  did  plead, 

Nor  erring  ones  did  it  upbraid. 

Opened  the  hearts  of  man  to  it ; 

Childhood  was  blest  where'er  it  came  ; 
Motherhood  at  its  feet  did  sit, 

And  misery  forgot  its  shame. 

Speed  through  the  world,  O  Love  Divine ! 

Gladden  the  hearts  of  all  below, 
And  let  thy  radiant  glory  shine, 

Till  earth  is  freed  of  all  its  woe. 


LOVE'S  AFORETIME.  81 


LOVE'S  AFOKETIME. 

ALL  hail,  thou  child  of  love's  immortal  love, 

Diffusing  fragrance  which  love's  hand  doth  lave  ; 

The  costly  nard,  distilling  from  above, 

Anoints  the  Christ  aforehand  for  the  grave. 

Love's  office  with  love's  meekness  thus  doth  crown 
With  spikenard  drops,  from  precious  vase  poured 
out 

Upon  the  Saviour's  head,  and  flowing  down 
Shews  us  the  wealth  of  Mary's  love  devout. 

The  all-pervading  perfume  of  that  nard, 

With  which  love  did  anoint  the  dying  Lord, 

Has  found  adown  the  ages  sweet  regard 

With  pious  souls,  whose  gifts  with  hers  accord. 

So  love's  aforetime  would  anticipate, 

And  runs  before  the  needs  of  His  demise  ; 

Its  intuitions,  so  compassionate, 

Would  break  the  cruse  before  His  sacrifice. 


Christ  took  this  gift  which  the  dear  woman  brought, 
And  fixed  its  value  at  a  priceless  rate  ; 

And  so  the  memory  of  her  dear  forethought, 
Remains  in  God's  own  book  inviolate. 
6 


82  LOVE'S  AFORETIME. 

Like  gifts  of  gold,  and  frankincense,  and  myrrh, 
Which  at  Christ's  birth  the  wise  men  brought  to 
Him, 

The  record  of  this  vase  doth  register 
A  love  undying,  which  the  ages  hymn  ! 


GETHSEMANE,  83 


GETHSEMANE. 

A  DAKK  apocalypse  of  grief, 

A  vision  full  of  direst  woe, 
The  great,  bright,  holy  stars  of  heaven 

Behold  where  Kedron's  waters  flow. 

That  midnight  scene  on  Olivet, 

When  Jesus  bowed  himself  in  prayer, 

O,  holy,  sad  Gethsemane, 

What  horror  hung  upon  the  air ! 

He  knelt  alone  upon  the  ground, 

(For  those  who  should  have  watched  did  sleep), 
A  struggling  soul,  which  sought  relief, 

With  bloody  sweat,  and  anguish  deep. 

"  If  it  be  possible,"  He  prays  ; 

And  yet  for  sin  He  must  atone  : 
In  awful  ecstacy  of  grief 

The  mighty  Saviour  weeps  alone. 

His  holy  eyes  behold  the  cup, 

The  chalice,  which  He  needs  must  drink ; 
And  all  His  being  fills  with  shame, 

From  which  His  sinless  soul  doth  shrink. 


84  GETHSEMANE. 

O,  still,  sad  hour  surcharged  with  woe  ! 

Nor  length,  nor  depth,  nor  breadth,  nor  height 
Appeared  when  God  His  face  withdrew, 

While  angels  shuddered  with  affright. 

How  cold  the  ground  by  Kedron's  streams, 
What  sombre  shades  the  olives  cast ; 

The  solitude  itself  grew  faint, 

As  Jesus'  prayer  to  heaven  passed. 

My  soul  has  known  its  load  of  guilt, 
Which  sin  affixed  and  truth  revealed, 

Until  I  sank  beneath  its  weight ; 

From  sorrow's  thrusts  I  found  no  shield. 

Then  went  I  to  Gethsemane  ; 

The  place  of  prayer  I  sought  and  found  ; 
And  while  I  there  confessed  my  sin, 

The  heavenly  glory  shone  around. 

Thou  mighty  One,  to  whom  I  pray, 

Help  me  my  all  to  render  Thee, 
And  e'er  remember  while  I  live 

Thy  struggle  in  Gethsemane. 


LOVE  CRUCIFIED.  85 


LOVE  CRUCIFIED. 

MEMORIA   IN    STERNA. 

O  LOVE  divine,  what  grief ! 

For  none  may  bring  relief  ; 

Come,  saints,  and  sing  His  dirge, 
Who  thus  your  sins  doth  purge, 

O  wondrous  mercy,  deep  and  rare  ; 

He  dies  !  O  come,  His  sorrow  share. 

Dying,  He  points  the  way, 

To  all  in  sore  dismay, 

Who  now  believe,  and  hope 
The  doors  of  heaven  will  ope, 

And  paradise  with  Him  be  found ; 

O  mystery  of  love  profound  ! 

The  angels  see  His  woe  ; 
None  ever  bowed  so  low, — 

For  very  love  He  dies  ; 

Nature,  in  sad  surprise, 
Curtains  its  face  in  darkening  gloom, 
And  groans  to  give  its  Maker  room. 

Jesus  our  life  is  dead  ! 

To  Him  our  hopes  were  wed ; 
The  cross,  a  cross  of  shame, 
Bears  now  our  King,  with  name 

Reviled  by  all  the  ribald  crowd, 

With  curses  vile,  and  deep,  and  loud. 


86  LOVE  CRUCIFIED. 

While  at  His  cross  we  bend, 

And  tears  of  pity  lend, 

And  Love  Incarnate  view, — 
Our  human  love  pierced  through, 

Transported  at  His  feet  doth  cry, 

For  us,  for  us,  He  deigned  to  die. 


IBIS  AD   CRUCEM  87 


IBIS  AD  CRUCEM. 

THE  thorny  crown  which  drips  with  blood, 
The  awful  scourge,  the  mocking  guard, 
The  smiting  palm,  the  lictor's  rod, 

Are  borne  by  Christ  without  a  word. 

The  soldier's  spear,  the  rabble  cries, 
And  ribald  gibes,  and  scoffing  jeers, 
And  love  maternal,  bathed  in  tears, 

Attend  the  Saviour's  painful  death. 

From  Pilate's  court,  condemned  to  die, 
To  Calvary  the  Saviour  goes  ; 
And  from  the  cross  with  all  its  woes 

We  hear  His  dying  prayer  of  love. 

"Father,  they  know  not  what  they  do, 
Forgive  what  they  have  wrought  on  me. 
Behold  thy  mother !  do  thou  be 

To  her  a  son  for  mine  own  sake." 

Dying,  an  earthquake  shakes  the  ground ; 

Nature  itself  rebels  to  see 

The  Saviour's  mortal  agony, 
And  shrouds  itself  in  deepest  gloom. 


IBIS  AD  CRUCEM. 

Hark !  'mid  the  darkness  round  the  cross 
Forth  from  His  lips  there  bursts  the  cry, 
"  Eli,  Lama,  Sabachthani ! " 

Truly,  this  was  the  Son  of  God. 

The  Jewish  temple-veil  is  rent ; 

The  dead  come  forth  'mid  silence  dread  ; 

The  dying  Saviour  bows  His  head, 
Cries  "It  is  finished,"  and  expires. 

O,  awful  scene  !  O,  sacred  woe  ! 

O,  deepest  shades  of  dark  despair  ! 

That  Thou,  O  Christ !  our  sins  to  bear, 
Should'st  know  the  direst  pangs  of  death. 


WATCHING  AT  THE  EASTER  TOMB.  89 


WATCHING  AT  THE  EASTER  TOMB. 

BEREFT  of  all,  alone  he  dies  ; 

He  treads  the  wine-press  all  alone  ; 
Alone  the  conflict  doth  He  wage  ; 

Alone  for  sin  doth  He  atone. 

His  body,  swathed  in  linen  fine, 
With  myrrh  and  aloes,  spices  pure, 

Was  laid  within  a  virgin  tomb, 
And  women  true  His  rest  assure. 

The  moon  shines  full  on  Jesus'  tomb  ; 

The  stone  is  rolled,  affixed  the  seal : 
The  armed  guards  their  watches  keep, 

Nor  share  the  grief  that  loved  ones  feel. 

In  sepulchre,  on  stony  bed, 

The  blessed  Saviour's  body  lies  ; 

Alone  in  death  He  conquers  Death, 
And  links  this  World  with  Paradise. 

If  buried  with  Him  were  our  hopes, 
These,  too,  with  Him  shall  rise  again  ; 

And  now  the  happy  hour  draws  nigh, 
And  angels  sing  the  glad  refrain. 

And  garden  flowers  and  fragrance  wait, 
To  greet  the  Sun  on  Easter  morn, 

When  Jesus  from  the  tomb  shall  come, 
As  glory  gilds  the  early  dawn. 


90  EASTER  MORN. 


EASTER  MORN. 

THE  column  of  the  day  now  gilds 

The  gray  sky  in  the  East  ; 
And  lights  our  hopes  which  Jesus  builds, 

And  crowns  the  Easter  feast. 

The  beatific  hymn  we  sing, 

Was  born  with  Hope's  new  birth ; 

When  angels  did  fresh  tidings  bring, 
And  told  the  same  on  earth. 

The  Lord  is  risen,  in  very  deed ! 

The  emptied  tomb  we  see  ; — 
And  Hell  and  Death  receive  their  meed, — 

He  conquered  gloriously. 

The  mighty  Victor  is  our  King  ; 

We  triumph  through  His  might. 
To  Him  sweet  flowers  of  Spring  we  bring, 

And  Easter  lilies  bright. 

Receive  our  gifts,  dear  Risen  Lord, 

In  token  of  our  love  : 
Forever  be  Thy  name  adored, 

By  all  Thy  Saints  above. 


AN   EASTER  ANTHEM.  91 


AN  EASTEK  ANTHEM. 

WHILE  Eoman  guards  their  vigils  keep, 
He  rises  from  the  rock-hewn  tomb, 
Renews  our  hopes,  late  wrapped  in  gloom, 

Triumphant  over  hell  and  death. 

Anticipates  the  work  of  love, 

That  woman's  hands  would  fain  have  wrought, 
More  precious  far  than  spices  brought, 

The  revelation  angels  made. 

The  darkness  from  the  earth  has  fled, 

The  angel  visitants  draw  near  ; 

Gladly  they  say,  "  He  is  not  here  " — 
Immortal  life  breaks  from  the  tomb. 

Salvation  wrought,  His  work  fulfilled, 
His  light,  eclipsed,  again  appears  ; 
Gone  with  the  gloom  all  cause  for  tears, 

Death's  bonds  are  loosed,  triumph  complete. 

Fairer  than  lilies  of  the  field, 

Most  lovely  flower  of  all  our  race, 
In  month  of  Nisan  shews  His  face, 

Resplendent  with  eternal  love. 

When  laid  away  in  Joseph's  tomb, 
They  wept  the  Son  of  Man  as  dead  ; 
He  rises,  and  lo,  Death  has  fled, 

The  cov'nant  new,  is  now  fulfilled. 


92  AN  EASTER  ANTHEM. 

Hail  Him,  who  breaks  the  bonds  of  Death ! 

Sing  praise  !  eternal  hope  is  born  ; 

Let  all  on  earth,  on  Easter  morn, 
Proclaim  redemption's  work  is  done. 


THE  FIRST  EASTER  DA  WN.  93 


THE  FIRST  EASTER  DAWN. 

EKSTWHILE  He  lay  in  state, 
In  care  of  Seraphim — 

For  angels  constant  wait, 
In  ministries  on  Him. 

Thus  soon  Immortal  Love 

Anticipates  the  day ; 
While  night  is  yet  above, 

The  stone  is  rolled  away. 

Yes,  ere  the  day-dawn  shows, 
Or  human  love  draws  near, 

He  wakes  from  death's  repose  ; 
The  Easter  Dawn  is  here  ! 

The  Easter-day  has  birth ! 

Was  ever  day  so  bright 
As  this,  which  breaks  on  earth 

To  bless  each  heart  contrite  ? 


With  angel  hosts  attent, 

Heaven's  glory  waits  on  Him  ; 
Nor  can  Death's  power  prevent, 

Nor  Hell  His  honor  dim. 


94  THE  FIRST  EASTER  DA  WN. 

Before  the  lilies  ope, 

Just  as  the  dawn  appears, 

He  comes  !  He  brings  us  hope, 
And  wipes  away  our  tears. 

He  needeth  not  love's  gifts 
Of  spices  rare  and  sweet ; 

Death's  robes  the  angel  lifts  ; 
His  triumph  is  complete. 

Bright  Easter  lilies  bring, 
And  deck  the  holy  font 

With  all  the  flowers  of  Spring, 
And  sweetest  carols  chant. 

Sing  praise  to  Him  who  lives, 
Who  brought  Salvation  nigh, 

Who  to  us  heaven  gives, 
Whose  praise  we  magnify. 

Dawns  the  Eternal  day ! 

Our  faith  looks  toward  the  East ; 
The  sunrise  tints  the  gray, 

We  hail  the  Easter  feast. 


ALLELUIA.  95 


ALLELUIA. 

LOUD  Alleluias  sing  ! 

The  Lord  is  risen  indeed — 
Ye  hosts  of  Israel,  sing, 

Your  triumph  doth  He  lead  ; 
Sing  Alleluia,  sing ! 


Loud  Alleluias  sing  ! 

Behold  the  mighty  deed  ! 
Throughout  the  heavens  ring, 

That  man  from  Hell  is  freed  ; 
Sing  Alleluia,  sing  ! 


Loud  Alleluias  sing  ! 

Forever  will  He  reign, 
Our  dead  raised  up  will  bring, 

Who  life  eternal  gain  ; 
Sing  Alleluia,  sing ! 


Loud  Alleluias  sing ! 

No  more  we  fear  the  grave, 
For  death  hath  lost  its  sting, 

And  Christ  His  saints  doth  save : 
Sing  Alleluia,  sing ! 

I 


96  ALLELUIA. 

Loud  Alleluias  sing ! 

Hell's  jubilee  is  o'er  ; 
Our  hope  was  perishing, 

Now  faith  bides  evermore  ; 
Sing  Alleluia,  sing  ! 

Loud  Alleluias  sing ! 

Our  banners  here  we  raise, 
And  hearty  tributes  bring, 

Christ,  Victor,  Thee  we  praise  ! 
Sing  Alleluia,  sing ! 

Loud  Alleluias  sing ! 

Our  Christ  is  risen  indeed  : 
Death  vanquished,  owns  Him  King, 

Bring  forth  the  conqueror's  meed  ; 
Sing  Alleluia  sing ! 


EASTER  DAY.  97 


EASTER  DAY. 

ALL  hail !  Eternal  day  breaks  on  the  earth, 
Immortal  hope  comes  quickly  to  its  birth  ; 
Christ  rises  !  mighty  victor  from  the  tomb, 
And  man  is  saved  from  everlasting  doom. 

Sing  praise,  ye  saints,  upon  this  blessed  morn  ; 
Death  of  his  awful  terrors  now  is  shorn  : 
And  as  the  glorious  spoiler's  face  appears, 
We  bury  in  His  empty  tomb  our  fears. 

The  Lord  comes  forth  !  Himself  he  could  not  save, 
For  Love  Divine  in  sin's  dark  flood  must  lave  ! 
And  having  wrought  his  Father's  righteous  will, 
Sin's  waves  retreat,  they  hear  His  "Peace,  be  still." 

O,  holy  hope,  which  blesses  us  below  ; 
Upon  the  Easter  morn  let  all  our  woe 
Be  rolled  away  as  its  glad  dawn  appears, 
For  Jesus  comes,  to  wipe  away  our  tears  ! 

O,  joyful  day  to  all  who  bide  the  time 
With  holy  faith,  that  to  heaven's  fairer  clime 
His  saints  the  risen  Saviour  will  bring  home, 
'  Mid  groves  immortal  evermore  to  roam. 


98  THE  FEAST  OF  THE  EUCHARIST. 


THE  FEAST  OF  THE  BUCHAREST. 

JESUS  hail !  enthroned  in  glory, 
Down  the  ages  comes  the  story 
Of  Thy  body  slain  for  me  ; 
Let  me  eat  and  drink  of  Thee. 

At  the  right  of  God  in  heaven, 
Thou  whose  side  on  earth  was  riven, 
Sittest  now  a  pledge  for  all : 
I  will  drink,  and  on  Thee  call. 

Here  Thyself  to  me  revealing, 
Meekly  at  Thy  table  kneeling, 
Where  thy  Eucharist  is  spread, 
Let  my  soul  on  Thee  be  fed. 

Bread  of  heaven  which  was  broken, 
For  eternal  life  a  token, 
O,  sustain  me,  food  divine, 
Fill  me,  waiting  at  Thy  shrine. 

Wine  of  heaven,  fraught  with  blessing, 
Cleanse  me  now,  my  sins  confessing, 
As  Thy  cup  is  offered  me, 
Let  me  drink,  remembering  Thee. 

Holy  peace  my  heart  now  filling, 
Lifts  my  soul  in  transport  willing  ; 
Hark  !  I  hear  the  Master's  voice, 
Up  my  soul,  rejoice,  rejoice ! 


THE  ASCENSION.  99 


THE  ASCENSION. 

ABOUND  the  manger  at  His  birth 
Were  grouped  the  lowly  ones  of  earth  ; 
Now  He  goes  forth  from  Salem  fair, 
And  bids  His  called  His  glory  share. 

Toward  Bethany  in  converse  sweet 
They  travel  on  with  wonder  meet ; 
Their  hearts  a-flame  with  holy  love, 
While  angels  leave  their  thrones  above. 

O  wondrous  scene  on  Olivet ! 
Thy  crown  in  heavenly  glory  set  : 
What  benisons  bestowed  on  those 
Who  saw  the  Master  as  He  rose  ! 

The  Saviour  lifts  His  hands  to  bless  ; 
His  chosen  hear  His  last  address  ; 
The  cloud  rests  low  upon  the  mount, 
And  veils  the  angels  none  may  count. 

Kedemption  passes  all  unseen, 
Beyond  the  clouds  which  lie  between 
The  skies,  and  faces  that  we  lift 
In  vain,  sweet  hope  the  clouds  to  rift. 


100  THE  ASCENSION. 

While  gazing  where  their  Lord  arose, 
Whom  now  the  heavens  no  more  disclose, 
Two  angels  say  that  He  will  come, 
Again  to  take  his  loved  ones  home. 

Though  here  the  veil  is  closely  drawn, 
There  shines  in  heaven  eternal  morn, 
For  hark  !  the  angels  shout  on  high, 
"  The  King  of  Glory  now  draws  nigh  !  " 

"  Who  is  this  King  of  Glory  !  Who  ?  " 
"  The  Lord  of  Hosts  !  "     Sing  praises  due  ! 
"  Lift  up  your  heads,  ye  heavenly  gates," 
Lo  !  Heaven  in  state  upon  Him  waits. 

To  Mercy's  shrine  above  He  goes, 
Acquainted  well  with  all  our  woes, 
And  at  His  Father's  side  He  pleads ; 
For  you  and  me  He  intercedes. 

Our  human  nature  hence  He  bears  ; 
The  God-man  in  the  heavens  appears ; 
Forever  shews  His  wounds  above, 
Forever  woos  us  by  His  love. 

All  hail  to  Thee,  ascended  Lord ! 
Be  Thou  by  all  on  earth  adored, 
While  angels  hymn  Thy  praise  in  Heaven, 
To  Thee  all  glory  here  be  given. 


PENTECOST.  101 


PENTECOST. 

WHAT  gracious  wonder  now  appears? 
What  joy  displaces  all  their  fears  ? 
What  glory  fills  the  place  of  prayer  ? 
What  tokens  the  disciples  bear  ? 
Like  mighty  rushing  winds  descends 
The  promised  gift,  which  all  hearts  blends. 

The  pentecostal  pledge  of  love 
The  Father  sends  them  from  above  ; 
Redemption  now  appears  complete  ; 
To  saints  there  comes  the  Paraclete  ; 
The  Master's  promise  is  fulfilled, 
The  heavenly  unction  is  instilled. 

The  gift  of  tongues  rests  on  them  all, 
And  glory  shines  throughout  the  hall ; 
While  from  their  lips  in  wondrous  speech 
Whose  utterance  all  the  world  shall  reach, 
Breaks  forth  the  praise  of  God  on  high, 
Till  songs  of  earth  did  heaven's  outvie. 

O  wondrous  gift  of  love  divine ! 
WThich  yet  in  human  hearts  doth  shine  ; 
Abide  in  power  through  all  the  days, 
Endue  thy  church  with  holy  praise, 
Fill  those  who  preach  the  word  with  fire, 
With  holy  zeal  thy  saints  inspire. 


102  PARACLETE  DIVINE. 


PARACLETE  DIVINE. 

COME,  Paraclete  Divine, 
Endow  this  heart  of  .mine 

With  Thy  rich  grace  ; 
My  selfishness  remove, 
And  fill  me  with  Thy  love, 
Lifting  my  soul  above 

In  Thy  embrace  ! 


Adopting  Spirit,  come, 

My  wandering  heart  call  home  ; 

Witness  to  me 

That  through  Thy  cleansing  power, 
Which  Thou  on  me  dost  shower, 
My  soul  receives  Thy  dower 

Of  purity ! 


Spirit  of  Life,  reveal 
The  impress  of  Thy  seal, 

Which  makes  me  Thine  ; 
Thyself  my  soul  shall  fill, 
And  all  my  nature  thrill, 
With  joy's  perennial  rill, 

Spirit  Divine. 


PARACLETE  DIVINE.  103 

Transforming  Spirit,  now 
Blest  Counsellor  be  Thou, 

Life's  journey  through ; 
Giver  of  gifts  Thou  art ; 
Spirit  of  prayer  impart, 
Foil  Satan's  every  dart, 

My  Helper  true. 

My  vision  clarified, 
My  nature  sanctified 

Like  to  my  Lord, 
Would  Thee  through  life  adore  : 
Send  power  to  love  Thee  more, 
And  spread  from  shore  to  shore 

The  gifts  of  God. 

Pledge  of  the  Father's  love, 
May  I  Thy  fulness  prove 

Each  passing  hour  ; 
Help  me  to  worship  Thee, 
Bring  forth  Thy  fruit  in  me, 
Spirit  of  Purity, 

And  source  of  power  ! 


104  VIA  LUCIS    VIA    CRUCIS. 


VIA  LUCIS  VIA  CKUCIS. 

A  SWEET  light  shines  on  land  and  sea, 
Bright  beacon  to  humanity  ; 
It  wreathes  the  blessed  cross  of  hope, 
And  shews  the  gates  of  mercy  ope. 

Irradiates  our  sojourn  here, 
Ennobles  man  in  every  sphere, 
Fills  earnest  souls  with  brightest  aims, 
And  liberty  to  all  proclaims. 

Dispels  the  fears  that  compass  man, 
Compresses  heaven  in  life's  short  span, 
Spreads  glory  through  the  Universe, 
And  frees  the  earth  of  Adam's  curse. 

Blest  light  that  burns  with  the  pure  flame 
Which  diadems  the  Saviour's  name, 
Chases  the  fear  of  death  away, 
And  harbingers  eternal  day. 

Shine  on,  sweet  Light,  o'er  land  and  sea  ! 
Toward  thee  looks  all  humanity  ; 
By  thee  the  way  to  heaven  is  plain, 
Though  clouds  may  lour,  and  suns  may  wane. 

Sweet  Light,  sweet  Cross,  ye  both  are  one ! 
Ye  glorify  God's  holy  Son  ! 
Your  light  which  shines  so  kindly  now 
In  heaven  shall  hallow  every  brow. 


SUCH  AS  I  HA  VE  GIVE  I  UNTO  THEE.        105 


SUCH  AS  I  HAVE  GIVE  I  UNTO  THEE. 

THE  answer  which  our  faith  receives 

Is  fraught  with  blessing  and  with  grace  ; 

Our  every  need  our  God  relieves, 
As  we  look  up  into  His  face. 

Out  of  the  riches  of  His  grace, 

The  Gospel  measure  e'er  runs  o'er  ; 

His  saints  who  alway  see  His  face 
Receive  His  fulness  evermore. 


So  our  divine  replenishing 
Is  a  sweet  mystery  of  grace, 

Which  knows  of  no  evanishing, 
But  blesses  all  who  see  His  face. 


The  lame  man  asked  for  alms,  not  grace — 
Sitting  within  the  temple  door, 

And  as  he  looked  on  Peter's  face, 
The  gift  of  Christ  did  him.  restore. 

So  let  us  give  such  as  we  own, 
Out  of  our  treasuries  of  grace  ; 

Ourselves  the  richer,  as  alone 
In  giving  thus,  we  see  His  face. 


106        s  UGH  AS  I  HA  VE  GIVE  I  UNTO  THEE. 

O  gift  of  Jesus,  rich  in  grace  ! 

Replete  with  every  heavenly  dower  ; 
To  all  of  those  who  seek  His  face, 

Will  grace  be  given  to  know  His  power. 

Thus  richer  growing  day  by  day 
With  each  endowment  of  His  grace, 

May  we  enlarge  His  bounds  alway, 
That  all  mankind  may  see  His  face. 


WORDS   OF  JESUS.  107 


WORDS  OF  JESUS. 

ACCURSED  by  sin,  where  shall  I  flee  ? 
"  Thou  heavy  laden,  come  to  Me." 
What  words  of  grace  are  these  I  hear, 
So  sweetly  whispered  in  my  ear  ? 

"  Thy  guilt  confess,  thy  ways  forsake  : 
No  longer  need  thy  bosom  ache  ; 
But,  having  gained  from  sin  release, 
Within  my  vineyard  rest  in  peace." 

To  him  whose  soul  is  weary,  Lord, 
What  rest  the  gospel  doth  afford  ! 
What  blessed  hope  streams  to  the  heart, 
When  Jesus'  voice  bids  fear  depart ! 

Loving,  Thou  sayest  unto  all, 

Who,  burdened,  on  Thy  name  do  call, 

"  Though  heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away, 

Unchanged  my  pledge  shall  stand  alway. 

"  When  clouds  do  gather,  storms  arise, 
Rest  thou  thy  hopes  in  Paradise  ; 
Though  rising  waves  thy  bosom  chill, 
Thou'lt  hear  My  voice  in  '  Peace,  be  still.' 


108  WORDS  OF  JESUS. 

"If  troubled  here  with  many  cares, 
And  every  hour  its  burden  bears, 
If  only  thou  wilt  but  believe, 
Sustaining  grace  thou  shalt  receive. 

"  Though  seeds  of  death  in  thee  be  rife, 
'  Arise,  and  I  will  give  thee  life  ; ' 
Though  thou  be  blind,  receive  thy  sight ; 
Behold  my  glory  with  delight. 

"  Though  dead,  the  stone  I'll  roll  away  ; 
Not  Death  himself  shall  say  Me  nay — 
As  Mary's  brother  was  restored, 
My  word  shall  life  to  thee  afford. 

"  And  when  thou  sowest  the  gospel  seed, 
Where'er  the  furrowed  ground  hath  need, 
Let  faith  and  hope  thy  soul  possess, 
That  harvest-time  thy  work  shall  bless. 

"  My  promise  holds,  My  word  hath  power : 
Eternal  life  shall  be  thy  dower ; 
The  hosts  of  hell  shall  not  prevail ; 
Be  steadfast,  and  thou  shalt  not  fail. 

"  Bring  here  the  little  ones  to  me  ; 
Like  to  them  in  my  kingdom  be, 
Loving,  and  simple,  trusting,  true, 
Eternal  youth  shall  bide  in  you." 

Well  may  I  count  this  world  as  dross ; 
Its  gold  is  naught  beside  Thy  cross  ; 
O  may  I  hear  Thy  word,  "  Well  done," 
Farewell !  vain  world,  that  must  be  won. 


LUX  LUCET  IN  TENEBRIS.  109 


LUX  LUCET  IN  TENEBEIS. 

(ll  CORINTHIANS    IV.   7.) 

THE  quivering  darkness  palpitate, 
Forth  from  its  womb,  did  separate 
Effulgent  light,  at  God's  decree 
Owning  creative  energy. 

The  morning  stars  then  sweetly  sang, 
Their  music  through  the  chaos  rang ; 
As  light  from  darkness  did  ensue, 
Lo  !  heaven  and  earth  appeared  in  view. 

Our  God  who  said,  "  Let  there  be  light," — 
Hath  pierced  the  darkness  of  our  night, 
To  which  there  came  no  beam  of  day, 
No  rose  of  dawn,  in  our  dismay. 

But  hope  had  birth  when  Jesus  came, 
Forever  hallowed  be  His  name  ; 
Through  Him  God  shines  into  our  hearts, 
His  face  our  night  of  sin  disparts. 

Lo  !  God  His  glory  doth  reveal, 
O  wondrous  knowiedge,  love's  own  seal 
In  Christ  embodied  we  behold  ; — 
Love's  glory  until  now  untold. 


110  LUX  LUCET  IN  TENEBRIS. 

In  Jesus'  face  God's  love  appears, 
And  joy  wells  up  through  all  our  tears, 
While  we  adore  that  face  of  love, 
Our  souls  are  lifted  far  above. 

Angelic  spirits  sang  the  birth 
Of  Love  Incarnate  born  on  earth ; 
We  soon  will  sing  in  Heaven  our  joy, 
And  Love  Enthroned  our  praise  employ. 


THE  GIFT  OF  JESUS.  Ill 


THE  GIFT  OF  JESUS. 

WHAT  has  given  my  heart  surcease, 
Which  but  now  was  all  unrest  ? 

Sure  it  was  the  God  of  Peace 
Wrought  the  calm  within  my  breast. 

Long  I  sought  through  devious  ways 
Balm  such  as  my  spirit  needed  ; 

And  though  pained  by  sore  delays 
Ever  for  sweet  peace  I  pleaded. 

Up  I  raised  my  streaming  eyes, 

Crying,  "  Christ,  behold  my  sorrow  ! 

"  Prostrate  here  my  spirit  lies, 

Soothe  my  woes  ere  dawns  the  morrow." 

And  my  soul,  with  rapture  thrilled, 
Finds  release  from  all  its  woes, 

With  His  blessed  peace  is  filled, 
As  His  face  he  doth  disclose. 

What  a  treasure,  fraught  with  joy, 

Jesus  granteth  unto  me  ; 
Moth  nor  rust  cannot  destroy 

Here,  or  in  Eternity. 


112 


HAIL,   HOLT  CROSS! 


HAIL,  HOLY  CEOSS ! 

PART  I. 

HAIL,  holy  cross  !    Whereon  the  Saviour  died, 

Symbol  of  victory  by  sin  achieved 
O'er  Him,  whom  hellish  malice  crucified, 

Blighting  the  hopes  of  those  who  Him  believed. 

Hail,  holy  cross  !  Sin  triumphed  o'er  His  life, 
Vanquished  His  flesh — a  victory  half  complete, 

Obedient  unto  death.     That  scene  of  strife 
Was  but  the  place  and  hour  of  sin's  defeat. 

Hail,  holy  cross  !     Judas,  accursed  name  ! 

Caiphas,  Herod,  Pilate — all  combined 
To  crown  our  Lord  with  infamy  ;  of  shame 

A  lower  depth  the  priesthood  could  not  find. 

Hail,  holy  cross  !  The  Master  hangs  on  thee, — 
Loses  His  life.  His  pledge  doth  Jesus  keep, 

That  through  its  grace  all  may  from  sin  be  free, 
And  tears  forgotten  be  by  those  who  weep. 

Hail,  holy  cross  !     Death's  triumph  now  seems  sure ; 

Thy  foot  a  rabble-mob  is  gathered  round, 
And  wags  its  head,  to  see  the  Lord  endure 

A  shameful  death,  in  agony  profound. 


HAIL,   HOLT  CROSS!  113 

Hail,  holy  cross  !     The  hour  when  Jesus  dies 

They  seek  to  blot  His  name  from  human  thought ; 

But  Him  the  Eternal  Father  glorifies  ; 
Salvation  to  the  sons  of  men  is  brought. 

Hail,  holy  cross  !     What  folly  shewn  by  those 
Whose  blinded  zeal  pursues  Him  to  the  death  ; 

Christ  sees  the  victory  that  time  doth  lose, 
And  Death  resignedly  encountereth. 

Hail,  holy  cross  !     Death  yields  at  last  to  Him 
Who  victor  is  o'er  Death,  and  cross  of  shame, 

Which  now  transfigured,  shall  forever  limn 
His  glory,  and  the  love  of  man  inflame. 


PAKT  II. 

Hail,  holy  cross  !     No  more  of  ill  repute, 

Unto  humanity  thou  art  a  sign  ; 
A  spectacle  of  Love  most  absolute, 

On  which  the  Father  looks  with  love  benign. 

Hail,  holy  cross  !     Declared  to  be  to  men 
God's  power  and  wisdom  symbolized  for  all, 

Attested  by  the  Holy  Spirit  when 

The  contrite  sinner  heeds  the  Saviour's  call. 

Hail,  holy  cross  !     Type  of  the  mystery 
Of  Love  divine,  and  clemency  profound  ; 

The  testament  in  sacred  history 

Of  Christ  exalted,  and  in  glory  crowned. 
8 


HAIL,  HOLY  CROSS! 

Hail,  holy  cross  !     Upheld  by  all  God's  saints, 
Shew  forth  to  all  mankind  redeeming  grace  ; 

If  burdened  with  thy  load  Christ  sinks  and  faints, 
Yet  would  His  love  a  sinful  world  embrace. 

Hail,  holy  cross  !     Until  Eternity, 

Thy  power  prevails  to  conquer  all  thy  foes : 

Upon  thee  Christ  expired, — but  not  by  thee, 
His  Holy  Will  He  kept  until  the  close. 

PART  HI. 

Hail,  holy  cross  !     What  glory  from  thee  streams  ; 

It  pierces  all  the  night  of  death  and  sin  ; 
Sweet  Love's  Eternal  Brightness  from  thee  gleams, 

And  lights  the  way  whereinto  Heaven  I  win. 

Hail,  holy  cross  !     Before  my  eyes  appear 
A  pledge  of  hope  in  life's  departing  hour, — 

That  Christ,  my  Lord,  my  Master,  Saviour  dear, 
May  then  transmute  my  Weakness  into  Power. 

Hail,  holy  cross  !     My  last  glance  falls  on  thee, 
The  vision  fades  ;  the  angels  come  ;  I  rise. 

The  sapphire  floor  of  heaven  appears  to  me  ; 

O  Lamb  of  God  !  through  Thee  I  grasp  the  prize. 

PAST  IV. 

Hail,  holy  cross  !     The  world  beneath  thee  rests 

In  holy  reverence  and  adoring  song  ; 
Thy  shadow,  cast  o'er  land  and  Sea,  attests 

That  myriad  hearts  thy  praises  do  prolong. 


HAIL,    HOLY  CROSS!  115 

Hail,  holy  cross  !     Exalted,  holy  shrine, 

Red  with  His  blood,  the  Lamb  of  God,  so  pure  ; 

Who  suffered  all  the  Father's  will  divine, 
And  bade  Humanity  its  cross  endure. 

Hail,  holy  cross !  The  glory  of  thy  shame 
Shall  burn  in  human  hearts  a  lambent  fire  ; 

Consuming  sin  with  ever-cleansing  flame, 
And  all  repentant  souls  with  faith  inspire. 

Hail,  holy  cross  !     Immortal  Life  is  thine  ! 

Exalted  be  by  all  the  tribes  of  man  ! 
A  beacon-light  through  all  the  ages  shine  ; 

The  world's  sole  hope,  Eternity  its  span! 


PART  V. 

Hail,  holy  cross  !     Against  the  bright  blue  sky, 
Towering  erect  on  many  a  minster  spire, 

Thou  callest  on  all  the  busy  passersby 

This  world  to  spurn,  and  Heavenwards  aspire. 

Hail,  holy  cross  !     Emblem  by  woman  worn 
(Whose  soul  is  love,  whose  mission  is  to  bless)  ; 

Whose  jewels,  sparkling,  gracefully  adorn 

Fair  forms,  whose  throbbing  hearts  their  Christ 
confess ! 

Hail,  holy  cross  !     On  silken  banners  spread, 

Emblem  of  victory  unfurled  aloft, 
Wave  on,  until  the  hosts  of  hell  have  fled, 

With  shame  confessing  that  their  cause  is  lost. 


116  HAIL,   HOLT  CROSS! 

Hail,  holy  cross !     On  monumental  shaft, 
Funereal  urn,  and  mural  tablet  graved, 

Keep  silent  watch.     Full  well  we  know,  at  last 
Our  Loved  shall  rise,  since  Christ  the  tomb  hath 
braved. 


FAINT,  YET  PURSUING.  117 


FAINT,  YET  PUKSUING. 

WEAEY  and  faint  in  the  battle  of  life. 
Foot-sore  and  tired,  and  bruised  in  the  strife, 
Lifting  my  eyes  to  the  Saviour  on  high, 
" Sustain  me,"  I  pray,  "else,  falling,  I  die. 

"Keep  me  from  doubting  respecting  the  way  ; 

Forbid  that  my  feet  should  e'er  go  astray  ; 

By  the  light  of  Thy  Word  make  the  dark  shadows 

flee  ; 
That  so  often  obscure  the  right  pathway  from  me." 

Though  sultry  the  heat  in  the  noontide  so  bright, 
And  parched  my  lips,  with  no  water  in  sight, 
Yet  onward  and  ever  I  press  to  engage 
In  the  conflict,  which  every  believer  must  wage. 

Mountains  before  me  soon  sink  into  plains  ; 
Satan,  opposing,  no  victory  gains  : 
Pushing  on  still,  through  the  dust  and  the  mire, 
Faint,  yet  pursuing,  I  gain  my  desire. 


118  THE   PEACE  OF  GOD. 


THE  PEACE  OF  GOD. 

SWEET  peace  of  God !     Balm  to  the  Christian  soul 
That  feels  a  blissful  trust,  abiding,  strong  ; 

Subduing  all,  and  keeping  in  control 

The  warring  passions  which  to  life  belong. 

Sweet  peace  of  God  !    The  Father's  Gift,  most  blest, 
Indwelling  through  the  unrest  of  this  life  ; 

More  sweetly  proving  the  believer's  rest 

When  all  about  him  storms  the  sea  of  strife. 

Sweet  peace  of  God !    Though  surges  round  me  roll, 
Though  friends  all  fail,  and  even  hope  grows  faint, 

Keep  thou  my  Soul  within  thy  close  control, 
So  that  I  shall  not  murmur  one  complaint. 

Sweet  peace  of  God  !     Unspoken  pledge  of  Love, 
Which  does  not  come  and  go,  as  flows  the  tide, 

But  by  its  presence  evermore  doth  prove, 
That  Hope  and  Love  forever  are  allied. 

Sweet  peace  of  God !     Thou  art  a  welcome  guest, 
When  gloomy  fears  distract,  and  doubts  dismay  ; 

Thy  Presence  calms,  nor  goes  my  faith  in  quest 
Of  greater  boon  ;  abide  with  me,  I  pray  ! 


FAITH'S   VICTORY.  119 


FAITH'S  VICTORY. 

BE  strong,  nor  let  thy  heart  nor  faint  nor  fall ; 
In  sin's  fierce  onset,  or  unfaith's  sad  thrall, 
The  everlasting  hope  abides,  and  will, 
And  through  the  smoke  of  conflict  light  will  fill. 

It  often  is  that  clouds  will  pour  and  lour, 
And  seem  to  drench  out  all  the  sad  soul's  power  ; 
But  then,  like  that  bright  cloud  on  Hermon's  mount, 
A  glory  falls  on  us,  and  that  we  count. 

There  stands  the  Incommunicable  Name, 
Eternal  pledge  to  us,  for  aye  the  same, 
In  which  we  hope,  nor  can  we  hope  in  vain, 
For  all  Hell's  hosts  can  never  make  us  twain. 

What  gladsome  issue  of  the  strife  we  see, 
Sweet  promise,  crowned  at  last  we  all  shall  be ; 
Yes,  all  the  powers  of  darkness  fight  for  naught ; 
Our  victory  by  the  blood  of  Christ  was  bought. 

Peace  comes  from  triumphs  which  our  faith  achieves, 
Dispersing  all  our  foes,  our  fear  relieves, 
Shews  us  our  Christ  still  standing  at  our  side, 
And  points  us  upward  to  the  glorified. 

In  Heaven  they  whisper  of  abiding  peace  ; 
From  warrings  of  this  earth  they  find  release  ; 
For  howsoe'er  the  strifes  of  life  found  wage, 
Faith  holds  its  victories  through  the  eternal  age. 


120  I  REMEMBER. 


I  REMEMBER 

THAT  hour,  dear  Lord,  when  Thou  did'st  say  to  me, 
"  Fix  all  thy  hopes  upon  My  word  to  thee  ; 
Then,  if  thou  dost  in  all  thy  days  to  come 
Put  thy  whole  trust  in  me,  I'll  guide  thee  home,"- 
I  well  remember. 

I'm  glad,  dear  Lord,  Thy  message  came  to  me, 
"Take  up  thy  cross,  and  always  faithful  be  : 
My  grace  shall  be  thy  strength  and  portion  here, 
And  all  thy  paths  through  life  I'll  gently  clear,''— 
This  I  remember. 

Since  that  glad  hour,  dear  Lord,  I've  troubles  seen, 
In  many  trials  has  my  portion  been  ; 
I've  crosses  borne,  and  struggled  but  to  prove 
Through  all  Thy  precious  promises  of  love, — 
Which  I  remember. 

I  know,  dear  Lord,  pale  death  has  left  me  lone, 
When  loved  ones  that  I  cherished  home  have  gone  ; 
Fond  hopes  indulged,  I  know,  have  come  to  grief, 
And  yet  in  all  my  woes  I've  found  relief, — 
I  well  remember. 

And  visions  fair,  and  airy  castles,  too, 
Which  in  my  little  world  made  much  ado  ; — 
Had  they  not  vanished  from  my  sight  and  mind, 
I'd  surely  left  all  thought  of  Thee  behind. — 
So  I  remember. 


/  REMEMBER.  121 

And  now  that  youth  has  fled  and  manhood's  here, 
And  soon  the  shades  of  evening  must  appear, 
I'm  glad,  dear  Lord,  though  death  to  me  will  come, 
That  still  the    promise    stands,     "I'll    guide   thee 
home," — 

Which  I  remember. 

Yes,  Lord,  I'll  trust  Thee  till  life's  latest  hour, 
Then  my  freed  spirit  shall  receive  its  dower  ; 
By  Thee  borne  up,  will  gain  the  heavenly  home, 
Find  all  my  treasures,  hear  Thy  welcome  "Come," — 
And  e'er  remember. 


122  OUR  SUFFICIENCY. 


OUK  SUFFICIENCY. 

"WHICH  is  OF  GOD  IN  CHRIST  JESUS." 

MY  heart,  O  Lord,  its  path  doth  choose, 
And  fondly  hopes  its  goal  to  gain, 

Nor  for  a  moment  thinks  to  lose 

The  prize  it  seeks,  through  joy  or  pain. 

It  fain  submits  itself  to  Thee, 

And  prays  for  guidance  on  the  way ; 

For  if  Thou  but  its  portion  be, 
My  soul  for  nothing  less  shall  stay. 

The  troubles  of  this  earthly  strife 

I  surely  shall  surmount,  if  Thou 
Be  my  sufficiency  through  life, 

And  comfort  to  the  end,  as  now. 

My  steps  I  pray  Thee  ever  bless  ; 

The  vision  of  my  hopes  e'er  fill ; 
Nor  let  me  count  Thy  mercies  less 

While  Thou  dost  yet  Thy  grace  instil. 

Thus  would  I  prove  Thee  while  I  live  ; 

Find  Thy  sufficiency  my  health  ; 
In  life  to  Thee  all  glory  give, 

My  Lord,  my  strength,  my  hope,  my  wealth. 


TRANSMUTATIONS.  123 


TKANSMUTATIONS. 

GOD'S  power  does  here  transmute  our  ill  to  good, 
Our  peevish  nature  clarifies  with  love, 

Subdues  our  passions,  brings  an  inward  peace, 
And  works  a  likeness  to  the  saints  above. 

God's  alchemy  of  love  refines  the  soul, 

Purges  its  dross  in  crucible  divine 
By  spirit  fires,  which  hotter  grow  until 

In  mirrored  purity  its  gold  doth  shine. 

God's  handiwork  through  human  instruments, 
Wrought  out  by  means  He  chooses  here  below, 

He  grandly  sets  in  shape  beyond  compare, 
In  coronets  that  shall  forever  glow. 

Stones  rough  hewn,  from  human  quarries  taken, 
Divinely  chiselled  are  by  gospel  rule, 

Prepared  for  building  in  the  house  of  God, 
Which  Temple  rises  without  sound  of  tool. 

Thus  ever  God  from  lowliness  evolves 

The  change  that  makes  the  sinner  grow  to  be 

Faithful  in  copy  to  the  likeness  given, 

Till  all  men  say,  "This  man  from  guile  is  free." 

They  look  amazed  to  see  such  changes  here, 
Angels  bow  down,  and  wonder,  and  adore  ; 

And  ask,  with  us,  if  heavenly  power  shall  work 
Such  transmutations  in  the  evermore  ? 


N0  MORE  SEA. 


NO  MOKE  SEA. 

No  more  Eed  Sea  whose  waves  shall  stand 
At  token  of  the  Prophet's  rod, 

While  all  the  hosts  of  Israel  shout 

Their  victory,  crowned  by  Israel's  God. 

Nor  ebb  nor  flow  upon  the  beach 
Shall  toss  the  shells,  enamelled  fair, 

Whose  murmur  of  the  evermore 
Is  hushed  to  rest  in  amber  air. 

No  dithyrambic  roar  shall  rise 

And  break  upon  the  beetling  height ; 

Nor  e'er  again  shall  thunderous  waves 
Shout  their  wild  paeans  of  delight. 

No  storms  shall  bury  human  hopes, 
No  shipwrecked  mariner  be  lost, 

No  stranded  vessel  on  the  beach, 
No  sailor's  wife  with  trouble  tost. 


No  monotone  of  coming  ill, 

No  childhood  prayers  for  loved  at  sea, 
But  the  deep  diapason  full, 

From  anxious  souls  from  fear  set  free. 


NO  MORE  SEA.  125 

On  all  God's  land  no  shores  of  sea, 

No  mighty  deeps  of  agony, 
No  whitened  spray,  no  billowy  shroud, 

No  voicing  storm  in  symphony. 

Hail,  blessed  land  !  Eternal  peace  ! 

All  storms  are  hushed,  no  sails  shall  fill, 
No  ship  shall  float,  no  fog  shall  lift, 

No  shrouds  be  manned,  no  iceberg  chill. 

O  glorious  and  eternal  clime  ! 

When  shall  God's  mighty  angel  stand 
And  cry,  to  countless  myriad  hosts, 

There  is  no  sea,  'mid  this  fair  land  ? 

The  prophet  most  beloved  of  Christ, 

Seized  the  apocalyptic  sight ; 
The  rolling  seas  dissolved,  and  lo  ! 

A  heaven  of  Eternal  light. 


126  SONG   OF  MY  SOUL. 


SONG  OF  MY  SOUL. 

O  HEARKEN  to  my  song  of  praise, 
Which  now  to  Thee,  O  God,  I  raise, 
Who  out  of  darkness  called  my  soul, 
And  turned  my  feet  toward  heaven's  goal 

When  erst  in  deepest  sin  I  lay, 
And  had  in  me  no  voice  to  pray, 
Thy  quickening  Spirit  called  to  me, 
To  rise  and  seek  my  life  in  Thee. 

Then  light  divine  shone  from  the  cross, 
It  showed  me  all  my  shame  and  loss  ; 
Revealed  the  sinner's  hope  to  me, 
And  set  me  from  my  dungeon  free. 

My  ransomed  soul  now  lifts  to  Thee, 
Thou  ever  blessed  One  in  Three, 
The  joyful  song  of  tribute  meet 
It  fain  would  place  at  Thy  dear  feet. 

And  when  I  lay  my  trophies  down, 
And  Thou  shalt  me  with  glory  crown, 
111  join  the  everlasting  song 
Sung  by  the  white-robed  angel  throng. 


THE  LOVE  OF  JESUS.  127 


THE  LOVE  OF  JESUS. 

LOVE  so  great  my  soul  amazes  ; 

Heart,  break  forth  in  fullest  song  ; 
Ever  hymn,  my  soul,  His  praises, 

Evermore  the  notes  prolong. 

I  was  lost,  but  Jesus  found  me, 
Swiftly  left  His  home  above, 

Placed  his  loving  arms  around  me, 
Won  me  by  His  matchless  love. 

Down  He  came  from  highest  glory, 
Me  to  save  from  lowest  hell : 

True,  it  is  the  old,  old  story, 
Yet,  my  soul,  the  story  tell. 

Will  you  seek  Him,  too,  my  brother, 
Will  you  not  on  Christ  rely  ? 

Trust  Him,  sure  there  is  no  other 
Love  so  priceless,  none  so  high. 

Every  hour  His  love  amazes, 
Tune,  my  lyre,  a  holy  song  ; 

Ever  hymn,  my  soul,  His  praises, 
Sweetest  strains  to  Him  belong. 


128  GOD  KNOWETH  BEST. 


GOD  KNOWETH  BEST. 

BE  hushed,  my  soul,  to  rest : 
Though  troubles  toss  thy  breast, 

God  knoweth  best : 
This  grief  in  mercy  sent, 
By  which  thy  heart  is  rent, 
Kind  Heaven  gives  to  thee, 
To  make  thy  spirit  free, — 

Noble  and  blest. 

What  though  thy  gift  of  life 
Should  all  be  spent  in  strife  ? 

God  knoweth  best : 
He  sendeth  unto  thee, 
Lest  thou  a  craven  be, 
Strength  to  endure  the  fight ; 
So  keep  thine  armor  bright 

Upon  thy  breast. 

Surely  thou  canst  not  fail, 
Whoever  may  assail, — 

God  knoweth  best : 
For  He  to  thee  will  grant, 
Though  in  the  wage  thou  pant, 
Full  victory  at  last, 
And,  all  thy  trials  past, 

Thou  shalt  have  rest. 


FIDES  PROBATA   CORONAT.  129 


FIDES  PROBATA  CORONAT. 

BE  faithful,  O  my  soul !  'tis  grand  to  live, 
With  high  emprise  of  life  before  thy  view  ; 

But  nobler  far  to  dedicate  and  give 

Thyself,  and  all  thou  hast,  or  here  can  do, 
'Mid  joys  or  woes, 

In  humble,  faithful  service  to  thy  God, 

"Who  keeps  and  guards  life's  issues  to  its  close. 

Be  faithful,  O  my  soul !  thy  every  gift, 
And  service  unto  Him,  will  surely  bring 

That  increment  of  joy  which  shall  uplift 

Thy  heart :  and  toiling  on  thou  yet  shalt  sing, 
Or  faint,  or  sore, 

That  labor  consecrate  to  God,  e'en  here, 

Hath  blessings,  which  increase  for  evermore. 

Be  faithful,  O  my  soul !  it  may  be  here, 

Thou'lt  fail  to  see  the  fruitage  of  thy  youth ; 
Still  sow  thy  seed  ;  the  blade,  the  grass,  the  ear, 
Full  ripened,  will  shew  forth  thou  did'st  in  truth 

Both  plant  and  till, 

Expectant  when  the  harvest-time  should  come, 
The  gathered  sheaves  thy  heart  with  joy  would  fill. 
9 


130  FIDES  PROBATA    CORONAT. 

Be  faithful,  O  my  soul !  with  heaven  in  view, 
And  promise  of  the  Master's  welcome  dear, 

Fail  not  in  aught  thou  hast  on  earth  to  do  ; 
And  thou  wilt  find  that  heaven  hath  also  here 
A  bounteous  store 

For  thee,  with  love's  sweet  recompense  for  toil, 

And  yonder  rest,  when  all  thy  toil  is  o'er. 


SAVIOUR  MINE.  131 


SAVIOUR  MINE. 

I  KEST  my  hopes  on  Thee, 
My  refuge  ever  be, 

Jesus  divine  : 

My  righteousness  Thou  art, 
All  other  hopes  depart ; 
Shrined  in  my  loving  heart, 

Be  always  mine. 


I  place  my  trust  in  Thee, 
Thou  wilt  forever  be 

Unfailing,  true  ; 
My  days  pass  swiftly  by, 
The  evening  shadows  fly, 
My  soul  mounts  up  the  sky, 

With  Thee  in  view. 


Thy  peace  pervades  my  breast, 
And  is  a  welcome  guest, 

Precious  to  me  ; 
No  burden  will  I  heed, 
My  soul  on  Thee  doth  feed, 
And  finds  its  every  need 

Is  met  in  Thee. 


132  SAVIOUR  MINE. 

Love  of  my  soul  Thou  art, 
And  dwelling  in  my  heart 

I  pray  Thee  bide  ; 
Unselfish  may  I  live, 
Myself  to  others  give, 
Increase  of  love  receive, 

And  Thee  beside. 


\ 


AT  EVENING  TIME  IT  SHALL  BE  LIGHT.      133 


AT  EVENING  TIME  IT  SHALL  BE  LIGHT. 

THE  golden  urns  of  life  are  broken  now  ; 
'Tis  death's  cold  damp  I  feel  upon  my  brow ; 
From  all  earth's  toils  I  soon  shall  find  release, 
And  hail  the  clime  where  dwells  eternal  peace. 

From  out  yon  purpled  sea  of  clouds  there  shines 
A  kindly  light,  which  softly  intertwines 
The  light  of  earth,  with  beams  from  heaven  above, 
The  bright,  pure  light,  of  everlasting  love. 

For  He,  who  all  the  light  of  heaven  is, 
Illumes  life's  evening-time,  and  calls  me  His  ; 
His  precious  presence  floods  the  Western  skies, 
And  gilds  the  land  which  just  before  me  lies. 

It  must  so  be  that  all  earth's  shadows  flee, 
When  Thou  dost  bid  my  soul  converse  with  Thee  ; 
The  voice  which  in  life's  evening  greets  my  ear, 
I  know  to  be  my  Saviour's  word  of  cheer. 

Death's  curtained  shadow  a  blest  portal  forms, 
Through  which   I   reach   a   home  where  comes  no 

storms ; 

Where  light  leads  on  to  glories  yet  unseen, 
Where  not  a  shadow  crosses  heaven's  demesne. 


134     AT  E  VENING  TIME  IT  SHALL  BE  LIGHT. 

O,  clothe  me  in  white  robes  to  greet  thee,  Lord ! 
Thy  light  at  evening  time  to  me  afford, 
And  may  Thy  chariot  swift  my  spirit  bear 
Above  that  shadow,  and  Thy  glory  share. 

' 


A    G HATEFUL   TRIBUTE.  135 


A  GRATEFUL  TRIBUTE. 

PREPAEE,  my  heart,  a  happy  song  : 
To  Christ,  thy  Lord,  the  notes  belong ; 
His  mercies  constant  crown  thy  days, 
His  goodness  merits  all  thy  praise. 

From  morn  till  eve,  from  eve  till  morn, 
Unwearied  love  has  to  thee  borne 
Glad  tokens  both  from  earth  and  heaven, 
Dear  blessings  which  thy  Lord  hath  given. 

In  darkest  hours  and  saddest  grief, 
Thou,  Lord,  hast  sent  my  soul  relief  : 
When  I  was  'whelmed  with  troubles  here, 
Thou  whispered'st  to  me,  "  Never  fear." 

Did  sin's  dark  waters  toss  my  soul, 
And  in  a  tempest  o'er  me  roll, 
How  sweet  thy  welcome,  "  Come  to  Me," 
How  blest  my  heart  from  guilt  made  free  ! 

Thy  love  has  always  cleared  my  way, 
Nor  suffered  me  from  Thee  to  stray, 
The  sweetest  blessings  I  have  known 
Thy  loving-kindness,  Lord,  hath  shown. 

So  hour  by  hour,  and  day  by  day, 
I  lift  my  voice  to  Thee  and  pray, 
That  still  the  blessings  of  Thy  love 
My  richest  treasures  here  may  prove. 


136  A    GRATEFUL  TRIBUTE. 

And  when  in  heaven  I  raise  my  song, 
I'll  sing  "  To  Christ  the  notes  belong, 
Whose  mercies  constant  crowned  my  days, 
And  filled  my  life  with  His  own  own  praise  ! " 


MINE  IN  THINE.  137 


MINE  IN  THINE. 

WHEN  first,  O  Lord,  I  placed  my  hand  in  Thine, 
And  promised  that  with  all  the  lapse  of  time 
My  heart's  true  homage  I  would  render  Thee, 

Thou  didst  accept  that  offering  of  mine. 

Most  wonderful  it  seemed  to  me  that  Thou, 
The  everlasting  Son  of  God,  should'st  then 
Vouchsafe  Thy  promise  unto  me  to  keep 

All  precious  hopes  I  treasured  then,  and  now. 

Each  following  year  Thou  hast  fulfilled  to  me 
Thy  promises  of  grace  to  keep  and  bless  ; 
Through  all  the  changes  sent  to  me  I've  seen 

Thy  hand  divine,  guiding  my  life  to  Thee. 

Thy  ministries  of  mercy,  Lord,  do  prove 
The  wisdom  of  Thy  dealings  with  my  soul, 
Which  bows  before  Thy  throne  with  gladsome  song 

To  Thee,  for  every  blessing  of  Thy  love. 

Full  well  I  know,  my  Lord,  the  time  will  come 
When  I  shall  need  Thy  hand  to  hold  me  up, 
When  passing  hence,  and  crossing  Jordan's  stream, 

My  ransomed  soul  goes  to  the  heavenly  home. 

And  when  my  joyful  spirit  gains  that  shore, 

I  then  shall  to  eternal  ages  sing, 

I'm  saved  because  I  placed  my  hand  in  Thine, 
And  worship  Thee,  dear  Lord,  forevermore. 


138  HE  TAXES  MY  OlilMF. 


HE  TAKES  MY  GREEK 

MY  heart,  O  Lord,  will  surely  break 
Beneath  the  burden  of  its  woe  ; 

I  pray  Thee,  Lord,  my  sorrows  take, 
At  Mercy's  throne  I  bend  me  low, 
And  tell  my  grief. 

Here  pleading,  Lord,  I  look  to  Thee  : 
Did  ever  soul  such  sorrow  know 

As  wrings  my  heart  with  agony  ? 
O,  now  Thy  mighty  comfort  shew, 
And  cheer  my  grief. 

I  know  Thou  dost  all  burdens  bear  ; 

I  know  Thou  dost  all  griefs  assuage : 
O  speak,  and  all  my  anguish  share, 

And  let  Thy  power  divine  engage 
To  heal  my  grief. 

The  blessing  comes,  it  thrills  my  soul ! 

Thy  voice  of  love  my  trouble  heals  ; 
My  breaking  heart  is  all  made  whole, 

My  happy  soul  no  burden  feels 
Of  vanished  grief ! 


THE  SA.INTS  GONE  HOME.  139 


THE  SAINTS  GONE  HOME. 

IN  that  last  hour  when  earthly  hope  has  fled, 
And  we  are  standing  round  the  dying-bed, 
There  falls  upon  our  ears  no  din  of  strife  ; 
The  parting  whisper  tells  that  out  of  life 
The  saint  of  God  goes  home. 

We  know  angelic  ministries  are  there, 
We  seem  to  hear  their  voices  on  the  air ; 
And  to  our  faith  the  veil  is  very  thin 
Which  hides  from  us  the  glorious  entering  in 
Of  the  saints  of  God  gone  home. 


Such  mighty  comfort  does  assuage  our  grief, 
And  to  our  aching  hearts  affords  relief, 
As  going  from  us,  the  dim  veil  within, 
Jesus  with  crown  of  life  will  welcome  in 
The  saint  of  God  gone  home. 


Yes,  'mid  the  darkness,  from  that  heaven  so  bright, 
On  dying  eyes  there  shines  a  glorious  light, 
Chasing  away  all  shadows,  doubts,  and  fears, 
While  we  by  that  bright  light,  through  all  our  tears, 
Do  see  the  saints  go  home. 


140  THE  SAINTS   GONE  HOME. 

Hark  to  their  dying  raptures,  what  they  tell  : 
"  The  best  of  all  is  God's  with  us,"  "  Farewell," 
"  I  don't  fear  death,  for  I  know  how  to  die," 
"  Safe  in  the  arms  of  Jesus  I  shall  lie  ; " 
And  so  the  saints  go  home. 

"  Sing  the  Te  Deum  to  me  ere  the  morning," 
"  The  happy  hour  has  come,"  "The  day  is  dawning," 
"  I  did  not  think  it  was  so  sweet  to  die," 
"  Farewell,  vain  world,  to  Jesus  now  I  fly  ; " 
And  thus  the  saints  go  home. 

"  O  !  I'm  weary,  weary,  let  me  now  go  home," 
{<  God  is  love,"  "  Shout  aloud,  Jesus  is  come," 
"  Dear  kindred,  loved  ones,  we  will  meet  again," 
"  Hark  !  while  my  spirit  joins  the  great  amen  ; " 
'Tis  thus  the  saints  go  home. 

"  He  is  come  !     He  is  come  !  my  beloved  is  here," 
Hear  the  whisper,  "  Is  that  mother  ?  mother  dear  ?  " 
"  I  die  happy,"—"  God  be  with  you,"—"  All  is  well/' 
And  so  the  young  and  old  old  story  tell, 
Of  how  the  saints  go  home. 


TRANSFIG  URED.  141 


TRANSFIGURED. 

I  BOWED  my  soul  before  the  cross, 

Burthened  with  wretchedness  and  woe  ; 

My  guilt  and  shame  bespoke  my  loss, 
And  horror  darkened  all  below  ; 

It  seemed  to  me  hope  had  no  goal, 

Till  light  divine  shone  on  my  soul. 

I  saw  that  Christ  for  me  had  died  ; 

My  guilty  heart  then  turned  to  Thee  ; 
Mercy  for  me  Thou  did'st  provide, 

Sin's  shackles  loose,  my  soul  set  free  ; 
While  calling  on  Thy  Holy  Name 
The  cross  transfigured  all  my  shame. 

Christ  filled  me  with  a  holy  love, 
Which  set  my  inmost  soul  on  fire  ; 

My  heart  went  out  to  God  above, 
In  rapture  and  in  strong  desire  ; 

This  love  I  found  within  my  breast, 

Transfigured  all  I  saw  or  guessed. 

The  world  was  old,  but  yet  seemed  new  ; 

What  was  in  gloom  now  shone  with  light ; 
Which  way  I  looked  I  had  in  view 

All  Nature  decked  in  mantles  bright ; 
But,  best  of  all,  my  love  for  Thee 
Transfigured  all  humanity. 


142  JJS8U8   CHJtltiT. 


JESUS  CHKIST,  THE  SAME  YESTERDAY,  TO- 
DAY, AND  FOREVER 

O,  PREACH  to  me  the  everlasting  theme, 
Until  I  see  the  heavenly  glory  beam, 
And  feel  the  Master's  joy  within  my  soul, 
And  all  my  being  in  His  sweet  control ! 

O,  preach  to  me  the  everlasting  theme  ; 
For,  as  I  listen,  all  this  world  doth  seem 
As  but  the  very  porch  of  heaven  to  me, 
Through  which  I  look  the  Saviour's  face  to  see. 

O,  preach  to  me  the  everlasting  theme, 
Which  fills  my  soul  with  holy  joy  supreme, 
And  speaks  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  same  to-day 
As  yesterday,  my  hope,  my  guide,  my  stay  ! 

O,  preach  to  me  the  everlasting  theme  ! 
The  precious  Christ,  who  did  my  soul  redeem, 
With  His  own  blood,  for  sinners  freely  shed, 
Hold  high  the  cross  on  which  He  suffering  bled  ! 

O,  preach  to  me  the  everlasting  theme, 

Of  Him,  the  fount  of  our  salvation's  stream, 

Which  ever  satisfies  my  thirsting  soul, 

As  I  press  onward  toward  the  heavenly  goal ! 


JESUS  CHRIST.  143 

O,  preach  to  me  the  everlasting  theme, 
Whose  fulness  doth  with  saving  riches  teem, 
Whereby  the  never-changing  Christ  doth  prove 
To  me  the  sweetness  of  Eternal  Love  ! 

O,  preach  to  me  the  everlasting  theme 
Of  living  waters,  that  in  Heaven  stream, 
For,  as  I  list,  still  cries  my  soul  for  more 
Of  Love's  nepenthe,  from  yon  blissful  shore  ! 

O,  preach  to  me  the  everlasting  theme, 
Until  I  reach  my  weary  life's  extreme, 
Which  hour  supreme  will  fully  prove  that  He 
Eternally  will  be  the  same  to  me  ! 


144  M Y  ETERNAL  HOME. 


MY   ETERNAL  HOME. 

UNTO  joys  immortal 
Jesus  bids  me  come, 

Through  the  pearly  portal, 
To  the  heavenly  home. 

O,  the  wondrous  mansions  ! 

O,  the  awful  light ! 
O,  the  grand  expansions 

Of  that  home  so  bright ! 

O,  the  blaze  supernal ! 

Palms  forever  waved ! 
O,  the  song  eternal, 

O,  the  ever  saved  ! 

O,  the  King  in  beauty  ! 

O,  the  angels  fair  ! 
Glacl  eternal  duty, 

Praises  everywhere ! 

Throne  of  God  its  centre, 
Spreading  glory  wide  ; 

Jesus  bids  me  enter, 
And  for  ave  abide  ! 


THE  EXHA  USTLESS    WORD,  145 


THE   EXHAUSTLESS  WOED. 

THE  eternal  Word  of  God  is  ever  new, 

Proven  and  tried  through  every  decade  past ; 

Fresh,  wondrous  beauty  ever  meets  our  view, 
Its  promises  sustain  us  to  the  last. 

The  eternal  deeps  of  the  unfolding  Word 
Have  all  the  generations  fathomed  well ; 

New  lights  have  shone,  new  voicings  have  been  heard, 
Yet  all  its  wealth  of  beauty  none  can  tell. 

Martyrs  have  died  for  what  the  Word  contains, 
Mothers  been  comforted  when  sore  bereaved  ; 

And  widowed  hearts  have  proved  God's  Word  sustains, 
While  death  of  its  deep  gloom  has  been  relieved. 

The  anguish  of  the  soul  in  dark  dismay, 
When  Satan  undermines  its  faith  in  God, 

Finds  its  full  recompense  in  truth's  array, 

And  kindles  at  the  thought  of  paths  past  trod. 

It  pours  its  balm  in  every  broken  heart, 
It  promises  release  from  sin's  dark  thrall ; 

With  shield  of  truth  it  wards  off  every  dart, 
And  tidings  of  sweet  peace  it  brings  to  all. 

Let  all  the  weary  sons  of  earth  but  try 

The  changeless  saving  grace  of  God's  own  Word, 
And  they  shall  find  life's  troubles  quickly  fly, 

And  sing  the  songs  of  heaven  to  earth  transferred. 
10 


146  MY  FATHER. 


MY  FATHER 

FATHER,  Thy  name  is  dear  to  me. 
As  every  hour  I  look  to  Thee, 

A  deeper  knowledge  grant ; 
A  father's  love  fore'er  reveal, 
And  when  Thy  discipline  I  feel, 
To  Thee  for  grace  will  I  appeal, 

And  for  Thy  favor  pant. 

And  when  I  feel  Thy  kind  restraint, 
May  I  submit  without  complaint, 

And  always  trust  Thy  love  ; 
In  sorrow,  find  Thy  comfort  nigh, 
Thy  smile,  to  bid  my  troubles  fly, 
Thy  presence  be  my  joy's  supply, 

Enkindled  from  above. 

Help  me  to  look  to  Thee  for  aid, 
Thy  promises  my  faith  persuade, 

In  every  time  of  need  ; 
O'er  raging  seas  thy  "  Peace,  be  still," 
Shall  make  my  heart  with  gladness  fill, 
And  work  submission  to  Thy  will, 

And  hope  to  fear  succeed. 


FROM  PISOA1L  147 


FEOM  PISGAH. 

CALM  heights  of  God  on  which  I  stand, 
Surveying  all  the  promised  land, 
No  clouds  obscure  the  landscape  fair, 
That  'neath  me  lies  in  beauty  rare. 

A  land,  so  green,  so  fair,  so  bright, 
It  ravishes  my  wondering  sight ; 
A  land  where  milk  and  honey  flow, 
And  luscious  fruits  abundant  grow. 

And  through  its  meads  the  rivers  glide, 
And  flowers  grow  their  banks  beside, 
And  birds  of  glorious  note  and  wing 
Within  its  dales  and  coverts  sing. 

Afar  arise  the  mountains  grand, 
On  which  the  silver  olives  stand, 
And  still  beyond  their  distant  verge 
The  crested  seas  forever  surge. 


The  blessed  prospect  fires  my  soul, 
I  long  to  reach  the  blissful  goal ; 
Descend  the  mount,  o'er  Jordan  go, 
And  share  the  gifts  God  doth  bestow. 


148  FROM  PISCAH. 

And  if  such  shepherd  care  below 
His  saints  on  earth  are  led  to  know, 
What  shall  the  plains  of  Heaven  give, 
"When  I  from  earth  am  fugitive  ? 

O,  bliss  divine  !  O,  prospect  fair  ! 
Not  Pisgah's  view  would  I  compare ; 
Exults  my  soul  to  know  Thee  mine, 
Blest  land  on  which  God's  Son  doth  shine  ! 

With  eye  of  faith  I  see  the  clime, 
Toward  which  I  gaze  in  joy  sublime  ; 
And  He,  who  shews  the  vision  rare, 
By  grace  divine  will  bring  me  there. 

Ill  walk  its  streets,  all  paved  with  gold, 
And  know  its  joys,  as  yet  untold, 
And,  kneeling  at  the  mercy-seat, 
Will  worship  there  at  Jesus'  feet. 

Its  limpid  waters,  crystal-bright, 
Its  saints  arrayed  in  robes  of  white, 
Its  King  of  glory,  Saviour  mine, 
These  all  are  there,  O,  Heaven  Divine. 


THE  EVER-SAVED.  149 


THE  EVER-SAVED. 

THEY  have  gained  the  glorious  prize, 
And  stand  arrayed  in  beauty  ; 

Ere  we  reach  the  great  assize, 
They  summon  us  to  duty. 

Crowned  they  are  with  glory  there, 

And  woo  us  o'er  the  river  ; 
Palms  they  wave,  white  robes  they  wear, 

Put  on  by  God,  the  giver. 

Light,  resplendent  from  the  throne, 
Shines  on  the  saints  in  glory, 

Who  gathered  are  from  every  zone, 
To  chant  the  Ever-holy. 

Seek  we  here  their  high  estate, 
Who  now  are  saved  forever  ; 

Who  fought  the  fight,  met  no  defeat, 
And  won  by  high  endeavor. 


150  THE  ABIDING   THREE. 


THE  ABIDING  THREE. 

FAITH  has  its  centre  fixed  in  God ; 

Thus  anchored  safely  there  abides  ; 

Faith  o'er  the  good  of  earth  presides, 
And  works  its  miracles  by  Love. 

Hope  lives  expectant  with  great  joy, 
And  looks  forever,  on  and  out, 
Clasping  its  ideals,  pure,  devout ; 

When,  saved  by  Hope,  we  shall  see  God. 

Love  smiles,  and  blooms  eternal  youth, 
And  lives,  and  sings,  and  is  alway 
Content,  and  will  enfold  for  aye, — 

Both  Faith  and  Hope  in  its  embrace. 

Love  dwells  in  countless  human  hearts, 
Who  a  sweet  brotherhood  confess  ; 
While  Hope  and  Love  their  conquests  press 

Shall  Faith  God's  righteousness  proclaim. 

Faith  ever  voices  "  God  is  Love  ;  " 

Love  sings  its  gladsome  hymns  in  heaven, 
Which  erst  to  saints  on  earth  were  given, 

Beholding  Love's  redeeming  Lord. 


THE  ABIDING   THREE.  151 

Christ  tabernacled  here  awhile, 

A  man  upon  our  earth  He  trod, 

Shewed  us  Eternal  Love  is  God, 
Love  all-revealing,  Love  divine. 

O  holy  !  Blest  abiding  Three  : 
"While  Faith  reveals  a  trust  for  all, 
While  Hope,  on  Christ  our  Hope,  doth  call, 

Love  shines  resplendent, — reigns  supreme. 


152  LOVE  HATH  NO    YEARS. 


LOVE  HATH  NO  YEAKS. 

LOVE  hath  no  years, 
But  the  eternity  of  God  it  hath  ; 
Forever  fresh  and  sweet,  as  a  June  rose 
Whose  opening  petals,  last  by  angel  lips, 
Exhale  their  fragrance  to  the  Universe  ; 
While,  'mid  its  leaves,  the  angel  breath  impearled 
Lies  sparkling  with  the  glory-hues  of  heaven, 
Besprinkling  both  the  flower  and  glaucus  leaf 
With  purity  divine. 

So  love  is  sweet, 

And  hath  abiding  fragrance,  and  its  bloom 
Undying  is  ;  love  conquers  even  death. 

Love  brings  rare  offerings  at  the  marriage-hour, 

And  every  morning  lays  a  votive  gift 

Upon  the  damask  cloth,  both  flower  and  leaf  ; 

So  with  the  breath  of  love  there  rises  up 

The  perfume  of  love's  gifts,  to  mingle  in 

And  be  incorporate  with  the  savory  meal, 

Which  strengthens  well  the  heart  of  man,  and  fits 

Him  for  the  endurance  of  both  cold  and  heat, 

And  wet  and  dry,  of  this  vain  world's  conceits. 

Love  scorns  not  any  wilderness  of  earth, 
But  pitches  there  an  humble  tent,  and  bides, 
And  by  glad  presence  and  sweet  ministries 
Creates  a  paradise,  where  birds  do  sing, 


LOVE  HATH  NO    YEARS.  153 

And  flowers  grow,  and  limpid  waters  flow 
And  all  the  hearts  of  men  are  light  and  glad, 
And  tabernacle  there  in  joy  and  peace. 

Love  comes  where  heaviest  burdens  oft  are  borne, 

And  poor  wayfaring  man  about  to  faint, 

And  puts  Love's  strength  into  his  faltering  heart, 

Which  leaps  with  life  new-given,  to  do  and  bear 

Beyond  the  strain,  where  hope  had  found  its  grave, 

And  left  no  refuge  for  the  soul  in  grief, 

So  saddened  with  despair,  and  wellnigh  crushed. 

Love  sits  beside  the  dying  soul,  when  faith 
Points  on  and  out  to  yon  fair  clime  of  peace, 
And  whispers  (as  Love  only  can  of  Him 
Who  loves  as  can  no  other  all  the  souls 
For  whom  He  came  and  took  our  nature  on, 
That  we  might  see  Him  as  He  is  and  love  !), 
In  low  cadence  of  song  of  One  dear  breast, 
On  which  with  Love  the  saint  may  lean, 
And  hope,  and  live,  and  love  forevermore. 

Out  of  the  largess  of  its  precious  gifts 
Love  finds  the  greatness  of  .undying  love 
In  spending  ;  gains  eternal  heritage 
Of  fruitage,  precious  to  the  race  of  man, 
Enduring  unto  immortality. 


154  CONSIDER  THE  LILT. 


CONSIDER  THE  LILY. 

COME  view  with  me  this  beauty  rare, 
Pronounced  by  Christ  without  compare  ; 
Consider  also  how  it  grows, 
Fairer  and  purer  than  the  snows. 

"Tis  typical  of  saintliness, 
This  flower  of  utter  loveliness  ; 
It  forms  a  swaying  coronet 
On  which  the  seal  of  love  is  set. 

It  does  not  toil,  it  does  not  spin, 

Nor  e'en  through  strife  its  beauty  win  ; 

Yet  Solomon  in  rich  array 

Ne'er  equalled  this  fair  flower's  display. 

For  He  who  spoke  to  human  ear 
Kind  words  of  providence  and  cheer 
Blessed  its  pure  bloom,  when,  at  its  birth, 
It  sprang  a  smile  from  out  the  earth. 

And  as  I  gaze  upon  it,  lo  ! 
It  seems  Christ's  tenderness  to  show, 
And  heaven  is  imaged  unto  me, 
And  with  it  Immortality. 


LOVE  DIVINE.  155 


LOVE  DIVINE. 

COME  dwell  with  me,  Thou  Love  Divine, 
And  all  my  nature  so  refine, 
That  all  the  passions  of  my  soul 
Shall  yield  themselves  to  Thy  control. 

May  heavenly  tempers,  buds  of  grace, 
Dwell  in  my  heart,  and  grow  apace, 
Till  joy  supreme  and  peace  abide 
From  early  morn  to  eventide. 

Life's  daily  duties  may  I  meet, 
With  service  Love  shall  call  complete  ; 
Serving  become  my  habitude, 
And  Love  be  life's  beatitude. 

0  Love  Divine !  in  loving  Thee 

1  find  the  joy — Thou  lovest  me  ! 

What  grace  to  wear  on  earth  Love's  crown  ! 
Love's  recompense  from  heaven  sent  down. 


